Confessions of a Male Lesbian

A subtle mixture of random thoughts and quite lurid details describing quite explicit fantasies I have of my wife who happens to be my favorite sex partner with an understanding to the reader that various silliness may crop up unrelated to the aforementioned and quite naughty imagery.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Awareness thereof....

It’s not the generic, mechanical act of the blow job itself per se. The methodical and repetitious variations involving tongue, lips and mouth play on the varying degrees of erection are quite pleasurable and will vary in intensity depending upon where upon the continuum my cock happens to play under your guided expertise. In other words, please don’t stop.

My desire is not based upon what is the obvious. The rote definition and description falls short of the pleasure.

It’s in essence the movement and varying degree of touch of your luxuriously long hair draping and curled about the expectant tenseness of my skin. The encirclement of your mouth and tension elicited in the movements that you produce will change the effect of that softened awareness along my lower abdomen…perhaps my legs depending upon the angle of your mouth around me. A tickling sometimes. Occasionally, the soft cushion burrowed hard against my thighs as I begin to come…the mahogany spilling around your face as you stroke me to your desired level of completion.

This so subtle awareness and enjoyment magnifies the intensity of your work.

And now you know how good you have always been.