guidomedic's blog: "~What Would I Do...~"

What would I do? I’d take my time, relish every single second. I’d submerge myself in the moments, hold my breath and let them wash over me, wave after warm, sweet wave, enveloping my senses, enveloping me. Feel my hands, my fingers, against the outsides of your thighs. Feel their warmth, their veiled strength against the smoothness of your skin; slipping upwards, easing the hem of that so short skirt ever higher. Watch my expression as desire narrows my gaze when the allure of the scant lace beneath is gradually revealed to me. Will you sigh when I find your taut ass with my palms, when I cup your cheeks? Tenderly at first, more firmly as I press my face against the softness of your mound, into the gathering heat of your sex. Will you gasp when I rub my face against you, cleanse my countenance of the fear and regret and all the bitter disappointments with the moistness of your immaculate lust? Will you? I imagine breathing in your scent. Drawing it deep inside myself, holding the aroma of your passion within me, until your desire infuses my own. I imagine easing that dampening lace to one side, pressing my lips against the smoothness of your mound as you shiver and clutch my head tight to you. I imagine the first tentative flicker of my tongue against your glistening clitoris, against the succulence of your labia, running it through the tight, wet cleft between your slender thighs. I imagine pressing my tongue deep inside your heat, fucking you delicately, slowly, lasciviously, your nails keen against the back of my neck as I lick you, devour you, drink every last drop of you. I hear the sighs of pleasure that will escape you as I minister to your sex. I see myself genuflecting at your pussy as worshiper, devotee, zealot, battened upon your intimate flesh until you shudder and scream in delicious completion, until you collapse to the floor, trembling, aching, frantic to be filled, shredding my clothes until you’ve freed the hardness of my cock, holding, grasping its thickness, too desperate to pause, too desperate even for thought, consumed by need, need, need, guiding me, pulling me, plunging me straight into the hot wet heart of your hunger. Your questions. My answers. Now you know. Peace.