I’m pre-writing this before I leave but if all goes well, my flight lands this afternoon and I’ll soon be settling in, trying to beat jet lag. I’ll be back at my place Saturday and Sunday ready to resume my routine and bask in the afterglow of my amazing adventure!
In the meantime, I thought I’d share what I feel when I play with you.
First we talk. Getting to know you is so important for me. It allows me to intuit your mood, prepare myself to either hit the gas or slow us down depending on where you are in your body and it gives us both a chance to relax and become more comfortable with and aroused by each other.
I scoot closer and closer, draping my knee over your thigh, stroking your hand or arm, slowly making my move until our faces are only inches apart. What will it feel like to kiss you today? Are your lips soft or firm? Dry or slick? Do you meet gently and pull away or press hard? Do you have stubble? Will I notice if you do? I find out when our lips meet. That first kiss is always tentative, a silent question answered in the affirmative. My mind is on you, focused on the sensations my lips and hands and eyes feed me. Where have my hands been and where will they go? Can I feel your breath change and your cock start to rise? We slowly peel off layers, breaking contact just long enough for those silly awkward moments of stepping out of pants and remembering to take off our socks. I can feel your erection pressed against me through thin layers of fabric. I wish we didn’t need them but the small voice in the back of my mind is always aware and careful, protecting us from bursts of passion that might lead us astray, keeping us safe from regrets.
Finally I can’t stand it. Either I’m rising toward a climax or it’s not coming, either way it’s time to finish what we started with our clothes and move to my table, centered amid fairy lights, crooning lounge music, and sweet candles. We talk or we don’t, it depends on our mood. We keep our fever pitch up or we take a break, depending on our mood. I might transition to a soothing massage, gently kneading the muscles of your back and shoulders, working down each leg teasing as I go. If we keep up our high heat and you climax before long, we might cuddle and talk or I might use that rush of relaxing endorphins to work thoroughly into problem areas, hoping that the extra relaxation effects of orgasm prolong and deepen my therapeutic work.
But from the moment I first touch your cock to the moments after your release, hot and sticky and pleasurable, this is what I feel and think.
At first it’s dry, soft and silky, and I use the backs of my fingertips, absent the rough ridges of my fingerprints, to brush across the delicate skin between your thighs, caress your tender and sensitive sack, trail feather touches up the length of your shaft to linger and tickle right before it meets the head of your cock, growing harder at my touch. I’m observing how hard or not your cock is, how big, how ponderous, how full your sack is; I’m listening to your breath and your heart for particularly, unusually sensitive areas. My mouth is busy with kisses but those go on and off auto pilot as I send my attention to my hands, one pulling your hips toward me, the other settling your cock between us, our bodies together applying firm but dispersed pressure, a new stimulus, reminiscent of a warm pussy wrapped around you. Once I’ve a sense of you, I lead you to my lair where we settle in to whatever order or intensity we choose but once again, the moment I touch your cock again it steals my focus.
I let my erect, oiled nipples glide across the top of your cock, sometime pressing firmly so my full breast completely covers your cock, sometimes just using the tip of my nipple to tease that incredibly arousing spot right before your shaft meets the head. I’ve learned this spot. I call it your man-clit. Parts of your cock, like parts of my pussy, are more or less sensitive; that spot isn’t the spot that makes you stop stimulation immediately post-orgasm so it’s the spot I dwell on, gently and carefully, after I feel you come. But that’s later.
Right now, I’m lying next to you or atop you, our faces close, kissing or not depending on where you are in your journey toward orgasm. Your hands roam across my breasts, through my hair (unless I just washed it), cup my shoulder and pull me towards you, leave soft trails town my arms and across my back in the down moments when we’re not racing toward the finish line. One of my hands is stroking your cock, sometimes starting the stroke down, past your balls to between your legs. I’ve already checked your response to my hand getting close to your ass, I can feel the tension change either toward or away from my touch and I stay away or play closer depending.
I cup your sack, gently unless you tell me otherwise, letting my pressure vary as I play with your skin or your balls, then smoothly but suddenly sliding my hand all the way up your cock to pleasure with each fingertip that spot, that man-clit, and draw you closer to orgasm. I can feel your entire body respond with gasps or silence, tension and focus, or the relaxed disinterest that tells me to try something else.
Your body changes when you get closer To coming. Your kissing slows or stops, your expression turns inward, your cock gets even harder, your balls tense as they get ready to burst… That’s the moment I look for and that’s the moment I stop. I go back to playing with your balls, I lessen my pressure and speed or stop movement altogether, and I shower you with little distracting kisses. I want to lead you on, get you close to that edge and hold you there if possible. I want your eventual climax to be powerful.
I can feel the rigidity of your cock rise and fall as we come and go. I notice which way your cock bends and lies. I notice differences and similarities and appreciate the immense variety and yet core sameness of each beautiful cock. I explore with my palms and my eyes and my breasts your individual, personal cock and imagine what the ridges and slick smoothness might feel like in my mouth or pressing agains the walls of my pussy. My fingertips bring in such a wealth of information that it’s easy to translate those sensations into the fewer but stronger responses I feel during sex.
When I finally decide the time has come and I’d like to feel you pulsing and convulsing between us I focus my attention entirely on your cock. I’m searching for the tempo, area, pressure, and words that will bring you over the edge. I’m looking for that furious rigidity, that hyper focused expression, the full body tension, rocking hips, short fast breath and other cues that tell me I’m on the right track. My breath, too, comes hot and fast, my body tenses as I fight fatigue with animal passion, my mind, my hands, my body are all tuned into your cock for that series of moments, that incremental climb, that eventual release. I can feel your cock pulsing and I follow through with you, working areas of your cock and balls that I know don’t get as uncomfortable post-orgasm, playing with pressure, trying to prolong the waves of pleasure as long as possible.
It always takes a few minutes to stop our hearts racing and our breath panting. We’re sticky and sweaty with the aftermath of prolonged arousal and sexual activity. Damp towels warm first, then cool us off. Aftercare comes in the form of snuggles or a shoulder rub.
When I’m learning and working your cock, that’s what I feel: I absorb the sensory information my hands and my body feed me and it focuses my mind and my body so much so that, unless I’m busy fending off unwelcome hands (trust me, if they’re unwelcome I’ll let you know), my own body responds to your arousal, your climb to climax, and your orgasm. By working with your mind and body to create a more powerful and highly charged experience, I experience a more highly charged and powerful experience. I come vicariously through you and it. Is. Awesome.
So next time you wonder what you can do to pleasure me, this is the answer.