Reciprocity 1

Your hand skims my leg from ankle to thigh, grazing along the surface of the skin. The smooth, tanned, sweet lemon-scented flesh is intoxicating in its grace. Taunt muscles define the sensual shape. Your lips tenderly brush my knee. Quite suddenly, your teeth nip at my meaty inner thigh. Then, reverting back to tenderness, your tongue swirls the area so near and yet so far from the 'purloined' grotto. Your hand and mouth simultaneously stroke and caress calves, massaging the 'stairway to heaven'...

There is gentleness, affection, and the art of seduction in this promising intimacy. Slow and deliberate, you monitor my reaction, as I'm torn between desire and propriety. There is an ease and unspoken playfulness in this encounter.

To deter any resistance, you knead my neck and shoulders, relieving the stress of the day, and are rewarded with a moan of appreciation.

Together we find a comfortable way to intertwine our bodies while listening to music and sipping wine. There is little need for conversation as we savor this blissful moment of peace from everyday trials. Alcohol relaxes inhibition. Kissing becomes our mode of dialogue, fuel for the libido. Anticipation, as saliva and chardonnay lubricate the imagination and stimulate the senses.

Reciprocity: My fingers unbutton your shirt. My lips seek your neck and chest wanting to inhale your maleness and taste your essence. I nibble your ear lobe, then, exhale softly as if whispering. My hand feels for your hardness, wanting to coax your priapic presence. I unbuckle your belt and unzip your jeans. Out from your silk boxers springs the totem. Going down on you, my hand grips your shaft as my tongue licks the head and underside of the throbbing mushroom. My mouth is hungry to swallow the tip and tease your potent member. Taking it deeper, it swells until it fills my mouth and throat. My head moves up and down while your fingers grip my curly mane of long hair. Your eyes are closed and your breathing has become irregular. I try not to gag as I reach base camp and can take no more. I want to watch you explode as I pull out to finish you off with my hand while your white sap gushes like a geyser over my face and chest. I lick my lips to taste the salty droplets.

"Ah, you are wicked," you say with a smile and wink.

Your racing heartbeat slowly returns to normal and I know having pleased you fills me with delight and arousal, expectation of things to "come."

"I will devour you," you state with certainty.

"But first I will take you to the edge of ecstasy until every nerve-ending is on fire and your female honey drips down your legs. I will find the core of your Eros. You will beg to be spanked and fucked," delighting in the graphic language and my silent acquiescence.

The prospect of a delicious, tantalizing torture awaits...

Oh so slowly and deliberately you breakdown any resistance in order to liberate my sensuality and bear witness to my need for you. Your hand finds its way beneath my long skirt to the crotch of my black bikini panty. You flick your finger along the fabric, creating an irregular rhythm, frissonment, that is light enough to light the fuse. My eyes close, lost to the internal stirrings. You leave the spot simmering, stirring the juices, as your attention focuses another anatomical highlight. My black spandex shirt offers little protection as your hands reach underneath to lift off the garment, revealing a black lace bra more than amply filled as demonstrated by cleavage. You love the feel of the fabric and overflowing mounds. Your fingers trace the shapes and your teeth like a leech, lock on to the nipples through the lace. They harden like stale gumdrops, as you feel the return of a growing hardness between your own legs, only this time gratification will be delayed and the intensity increased—for the 'games' are just beginning...

You lead me from living room to bedroom. The candlelight plays like the silhouette of dancing partners on the wall, while a cool breeze sets my body trembling for unknown pleasures.

"Have you seen the moon tonight," you inquire as you coax me toward the window.

You stand behind me as we stare at the stars. Your hands cup each breast; a strap slides from my shoulders. You unhook the support and toss it aside. Toying, pinching and pulling the freed globes, you test my reaction. You remove your belt and rub yourself along my body, friction against my ass until I can feel your hardness. You grab my wrists and pull my hands behind my back, feeling me quiver as I realize your control and my weakness.

Where will this exercise lead? How will you merge pleasure with the pain of titillation and restraint? What limits will you test? Can our savage nature blend with affection and respect as our bodies spasm with a need for escape?