Sometimes I do this……

Sometimes I will lay on my back on my bed or the floor, lay flat on my back and closing my eyes spread my hands over my stomach to feel myself breathing under my clothes, my body as it rise and falls and let my hands slip over my breasts.

Sometimes I do this……

When the mood takes me which I confess can be often, flooding me with cravings and waves of temptations and shivered elations.

My hand will slip down, down to my thighs, my inner thighs, over my clothes between my legs I keep them together for now tight, tightening over my hand that I force between them and drawn by my warmth, always that warmth, that heat, that fire of intensity teasing me, teasing me, urging me open…. to soon I succumb, I always do. I have to, I can never to deny the inevitable, undeniable: a wanting a wanting a want to surrender.

Moving careless across every curve the clothes that cover my skin beneath these clothes my limbs, my body slim. I am gently caressing almost not quite yet undressing til thought emboldened to act I unfasten unzipping my faded blue jeans and let loose them open. I maybe look down the temptation to stop overwhelmed by that one to continue affirmed by my fingers entreating me pleasing me each with a life of their own. Eyes closed I feel them move effortlessly unhindered, so skilled, sculpting the yearnings of moments.

Sometimes I do this……

Thumbs slipped the waist band under to covet my skin the backs of each nail leaving hints. I imagine I’m being watched, eyes drinking in every moment and move that I make and I shiver, the thrill, the rush to be overcome, breath seeming distant as though not my own.

Fingers spreading wide open my zip and the denim revealing a touch a hint of the lace which embroiders the waist of the soft pink cotton tight as it fits to my hips as my skin undulates below my button a small gap appears just enough for entrance inviting fingers beneath to stop, take a breath, raising my hips as a reflex easily pulling away the jeans from my buttocks, my thighs, coming away like a receding tide. Pale my skin revealing peeling an inch then another inch by inch until shed and legs nakedly lay.

Sometimes I do this……

My pink cotton knickers stretched tightly over my sex enticing a touch even further, discovery, moistening warmth seeping through I’m immersed in my scent, being watched I imagine of only if only or maybe…… then hold me as firm as you want while hands will encourage my limbs, legs and arm, to spread wide to open me wider and open….. hands letting hand all of their hands demanding and tracing the lines along the elastic the hems of the cotton and circling, circling, circling so close too my…… til fingers slip stealthy beneath, lifting and touching the first fine hairs like forbidden silk, my skin and pink tenderness beneath pink cotton. My hips respond lifting, my voice becomes sighs, moans in tones of submission.

A dance as my hips respond answering the touch of those hands, my hands… their hands…… raising one knee I’m opening wider heightened the edge of my skin kissed, exposed my hips rise again closing my eyes take a breath as my knickers are urged away like my jeans pulled away until my sex, my mound so utterly naked laying there just as I am.

Sometimes I do this……

One finger to touch, find and explore my lips and folds unfurl one by one wanting more to be felt wanting more. Audible breath I’ve become overcome….. touch me ….. there yes…… take me there yes….. feel me… there yes… take me… there yes…. finger me….. there yes, yes ……

Lay me wide and come closer in between my legs lay… there yes just there… own me. Squeezing my hand the hand that’s between and I’m dizzy drowned in adrenalin floods of arousal, nipples erect, an wanting of lips on their aureoles rubbing one moistened fingers around them over them I feel myself writhing to life. My breath endures, hips embrace, fingers find their way to just the right place rolling over and over beneath then full deep into me inside me two and then three, vigorous almost too much to maintain. I’m find the edge and push myself closer, forcing my mind and my gaze to peer over, the precipice calling me over.

My body can’t fight, won’t fight just wants, just demands, a feral release of all inhibition I’m becoming the waves on the rocks far below calling me calling me craving my fall where I’ll shatter into a million pieces…… and I break, slip fall over and over the edge to my end as my sex tightens on fingers, hips lifted and lifting, aching and feasting, greedy and wanton, selfish, inside me my whispers are screams as I die to be brought back to life.

Sometimes I do this……

come closer
come closer
come closer
inside me I feel
inside me I want
til I come
you come
do it and

…… sometimes I do this.


© Emmaleela

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