Lucid Awareness

The body betrays the mind with those subtle touches that invoke such desires. The arching of the back; the parting of supple lips that beckon and plead for that succulent taste that only you can bring and awaken. A ravenous hunger has been sparked, and no amount of inner warring will diminish that awakening.

Tingles of unadulterated joy sweep around, over and through a still form that has stilled its breathing … anticipation has reached that precipice and plunged into that of longing wrought with images of naked limbs that twist in a slow waltz that heightens and invigorates.

The taste is perfection of male confidence and allows another to become bolder in reaching out to not just indicate that need, but the desire to claim and be claimed in turn. Trepidation ensues … a mere hair’s breadth seen, before the slow waltz continues.

Bodies become slick and wet with touches becoming more sensuous and meaningful. Fingertips explore and delve into the recesses of sweet nectar with promises of a release.

Still a word has yet to be spoken. Eyes search the other and what passes between that heated gaze needs not be said. It is known, understood and accepted with another thrust and arch to meet.

That pulse and throb from one to the other approaches, catapulting both over the edge and into the arms of a heavenly abyss that envelopes with warmth. A gentle sigh escapes, while fingertips, tender in their path, reach out and take hold of slender fingers and hold tight with a gentle squeeze of what still does not need to be spoken.