Journal From Las Cruces, Part 1
(Naked Women)
By Aleq de Satyr
"A man who dwells not with women has no understanding of them".
Anon
Prologue
The narrator of this story is a gentle and gracious guy, with an artfulness that captivates women. He is never imposing or overtly aggressive. He speaks gently, smiles sweetly, and ingratiates himself with caresses. He lives for women. And women court him, love him and satisfy him completely.
He is a proud possessor of a huge, splendid cock which he uses with tender delicacy, and not like a battering cannon, that brings out of a woman's cunt festive, joyful melodies, and deep cataclysmic orgasms. Above all, he is totally virile, with a phenomenal sexual prowess that women love.
Like a visitor from another planet, he indulgently, urgently, graphically shares his experiences with the "Naked Women". Rich, powerful experiences of unusual erotic potency, and high-intensity adventures, that came from the blending of love and sex. The meeting of body and spirit, that opened up all the possibilities of human sexuality, in its many varied manifestations.
Every woman in the story was unique and different. From ripe young luscious maidens, to lusty Amazons in their prime, to mellow mature crones. They were all warm, engaging, intensely alive, vital and graceful in being at ease with their bodies, their sexuality, their pleasures.
With them he gave homage to the dark Mother, the Goddess; in the rituals of raw sex--juicy, icy-hot, perfect--that bordered on poetry. Like a wine connoisseur, he devoured their cunts, consumed their juices and drank their secrets.
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Perla...The Nympho
In mid-summer of that year, I decided to take a two month sabbatical in Las Cruces, to work on my pet humanitarian project. As events unfolded, I found myself engrossed in a wonderful, memorable encounters, some of them intertwined, with several women. The most notable ones are depicted in this journal. But not in any chronological order, nor a particular time frame.
When our eyes made contact that day I moved into the furnished apartment across the hall from hers, I knew that Perla and I would be more than just neighbors.
"Hi, I'm Perla Sanchez and I'm a dyke," she smiled. Well, that's refreshing I thought.
"And I'm Roy Dumas. I'm a het," I said.
"Well, welcome to the Mohawk apartments Roy," she said. She wore skintight leggings, low across her midriff and displaying her slender thighs, the haughty curve of her ass and the soft prominent mound between her legs, that suggested a luxuriant bush. It was an open erotic invitation to stroke that mound of flesh.
We quickly became connected as we talked candidly, and laughed over scotch and smoked salmon, after sharing a joint, in Perla's one bedroom apartment. She seemed to fit my bill of fare. I like my women hard-edged, funny, sensual and at least forty years old. Problem was, she was a lesbian although of the curious mix of Dykey-femme. She was a struggling writer, with an imagination and style Henry Miller would have envied. She also swore like a trooper.
Perla was a likeable, decadent Chicana. Good looking, cool, with a great mystique. She had a gift for words. She taught part-time at a school for mentally challenged kids, as well as worked for a publisher.
One week later, late Sunday morning, after a workout at the health club and a long shower, it was very humid in the apartment so I gave up on clothes, and walked around nude, enjoying the light breeze. I'd always enjoyed nudity anyway. It feels so natural. Suddenly Perla walked in and let out a whistle upon seeing my tumescent cock, hanging between my legs.
"Oh shit, Roy you really are hung," she muttered, staring avidly. "I also like to walk around my apartment in the nude much of the time," she said.
"Be my guest," I said. Perla hesitated at first, then quickly stepped out of her clothes. "Ok, but don't get any ideas," she warned.
I was stunned by her body: slender but curvy in the right places. She was hirsute with furry legs, and a jungle of black curls between her thighs. Her underarm hair was equally thick, and the nipples of her firm breasts were ringed with hair. I was instantly turned on! My dick sprang into a full erection of ten inches of very thick, veined, rock-hard cock.
"Oh fuck! What a magnificent dick!" she cried, beside herself, "Can I hold it?"
"Please do," I said.
She fondled it for long moments, groaning, squeezing hard, asking me if it hurts. "It sure does" I lied, "but if you let me put inside you it will stop hurting".
"Not a chance, you should be arrested for having a dick like that," she hissed, walking to the fridge to get a beer.
When Perla returned, I noticed a trail of cunt juice down her inner thigh, her face flushed. She seemed very much aroused, but stubborn and strong-willed. I decided not to push her but to wait, for as long as it took.
We exchanged explicit personal experiences about our sexual explorations, our erotic energy; the magic of orgasms, while I massaged Perla, with scented "Labia Oil", made from the "Goddess flower"--a heady balm-- I watched the entrapped honey melt and flow from between Perla's thighs, as I stroked her warm flesh in long, and deep explorations of her inner being. Like strokes of love, ripples of the night river.
I continued to massage her. She moaned in primal tones, in response to my deft stroking of her big pierced clitoris, her creamy opening. I felt her joyous and expansive sensations; I heard the language of her moist flesh. The music of her pleasure. Her swollen cunt glistened, heavy with juice nestling beneath the luxuriant hair...She moaned with pleasure, her twat widening dancing to the music of my expert hands. She felt so soft, so good. Her inner core pulsating with sensation and color, with woman energy.
"Let me hold your cock," she whispered, wrapping her hand around my dick. "Are you sure you still don't want me to fuck you, ever?" I asked her.
"I'm sure...I just want to hold your big dick...Oh Roy, it's so fucking hard!; have you been lifting weights with it or what?" she giggled.
"Look Perla, you really should feel this dick inside you, just once. As it strokes you from G-spot to womb and back again, while rubbing smoothly against your engorged clitoris," I said.
"O God!" she groaned, squeezing my dick. "Please Roy, don't tempt me"...At that moment she looked very vulnerable, ready to capitulate. But I let her off the hook. I realized that I respected her vow too much, and treasured our friendship immeasurably.
Perla continued to moan softly as I massaged her cunt, now drenched with thick, viscous juice that dripped down the crack of her ass onto the towel. I stroked the soggy hairs, rubbing her clitoris gently, dipping my fingers into her cunt now and then; rubbing the juice around her asshole. She began to squeeze my cock harder. "You like this, don't you" I whispered in her ear.
She seemed suspended in a preorgasmic state of sensual delight. I moved one hand to her breasts, kneading, stroking, rubbing while my other hand worked between her thighs, gently relentlessly...Then she crashed into an orgasm, her body wrenched with spasms and low, muffled cries escaped from her lips. With massage over, we stood by the window sipping our drinks, watching people down on the street below.
My hard throbbing cock was wedged between Perla's ass cheeks, nuzzling her cunt as I caressed her breasts and nibbled her neck. I could feel my dick getting very wet with Perla's juices.
"Oh Roy" she began, "I love you so very much, you old goat, I really do. You have no idea of the torment and anguish I'd been thru, keeping you out of my cunt. When I think of your lovely sculpted body, your cock, I ache all over. I wake up nights when I'm alone with a craving to see you, if only for a moment. A fucking violent craving that leaves me breathless. Just to see you going around naked with that monster dick. Once or twice I masturbated ferociously thinking of you...I'd love to settle down with you but I can't. And I won't fight it." her voice cracking. I turned Perla around, her eyes were filled with tears.
"Oh Perla, I love you too, you know that. And I'll always love you even if we can't be together" I said, kissing away her tears.
"Then take me to bed and fuck me, till I forget my name and dissolve into oblivion," she whispered.
On my bed, I felt her trembling as I buried my lips in her vulva, sucking her big clitoris gently, feeling her muscles clamping down, pressing and drawing. Bringing out joyful melodies from her clitoris, grown hard, bigger, protruding from its hood. The air was heavy with the smell of incense and the musky odor of her cunt. My cock was hugely erect, heavy, vital, bursting with veins, ready for action.