On The Wings Of Love

On The Wings Of Love
On the wings, of love I would like to fly like a bird that can go anywhere it wants to. Climb to the highest peak it desires. To feel the depths of emotion and passion that only real love can stir within a human being. The lust that it develops because of its intensity.
Not the kind of lust that happens between only two bodies meeting, but the kind that begins like a trickle and then builds to the point within, that every faculty in your mind shuts down and you feel free to love phycally and openly. You even hunger and ache for his touch to the point that if he was to begin to change his mind you would beg down on your hands and knees for just one morsel of his flesh.
You would grab his hand in yours and place it on your heart. Hoping he would notice it’s acceleration. An acceleration that only happens when he is near. I’ve named this place the twilight zone. Only God knows about its existence. If men were to know how to get a woman there. There would be no hope for any of us. We would all drown in our desires, losing our souls and trying to find ourselves again. He holds so much power over me and he doesn’t even know.
At this moment he doesn’t need to say anything. He’s already won and I need him. I need his entrance into my body. I need to feel the length of himself going back and forth. His tender kisses while he holds my face. Why can’t he tell how hungry I am. Why can’t he notice me
drowning, losing my life ,in the moment he has touched me in. I usually have so much control. My mind is ever helping me to love wisely, but he has done what no man has ever done before. He has accomplished what I thought was impossible. I need to climax and he hasn’t even taken my clothes off yet.
But there goes his shirt and I’m looking at his bare chest. Leaning over him, kissing him gently, while telling myself that anything above the waist is legal. He reaches out his arm to slow me down, causing me to hunger only more. What does he want? My soul? He can have it. I’m no longer in control. As the low sounds of me groaning can be heard ever so slightly. These sounds are only the beginning of what the sounds of victory might be. I say might, because their only the beginning tell tale sign that he has won. Can he keep me alive or will this moment grow cold.
Flipping me over on my back he decides to own me. To take control of this moment. To be my master, my lover and my demise. His body on top of mine while kissing me and holding my hands in a way that I can’t resist makes me have to yield to the rush of emotion he is creating deep inside. Where am I? I’ve never been here before. I never even knew it existed. I’m lost. Lost in the electricity he is creating. Lost to my own consciousness. It’s as if I’m dwelling on a different plane or existence and he will decide weather we go further or not; not me.
He has decided as his hand slides down my body and over my ass. Ever so gently, and yet you can feel his need beginning to build also. He strokes and he kisses. I can’t get enough as he finally lets go of my hands. I’m relieved because I ache to touch him, all over, to grab his ass and pull him into me closer. To wrap my legs around him as if he were a branch I needed to
break. I pull him as close as I can but it just isn’t enough. We need, and I mean we need to become one. He somehow scenes this as he gently pulls my pants off, revealing only the scant underwear underneath. You mean I actually wore some? Dam, I think, and hope they will come off soon. They do only seconds after my pants do, although it felt like hours to me. Almost clawing at him now, because the feel of his male part rubbing, is driving me crazy. Why doesn’t he claim his victory, I wonder? I know, he wants me to go crazy.
He wants to know it’s OK. It’s more than OK, I let him know, by clamping my hand over his part, and inviting him in. The look in his eyes says, so your asking me to come? My hand says yes, as he slides into my life force. When finished, he nestles my body, as if holding something precious. My arms wrap around him. When can we do this again? I wonder. But it will have to wait. The wait creates the intensity. The zone of lust and his control. He’s won.
He’s won not only my body but my heart and my soul. Should I feel embarrassed now that I have awaken slightly from the magic. I glance over at him as I watch him slid his pants up, packing away for future use that weapon of his. Wait a minute, I say, as I slid myself on my knees in front of him. We’re not finished as I unpack him. Placing him in my mouth. I love the feel of him there, as his hands grab my head helping me, and as I hear him groan with desire.
Even though I am on my knees. It appears I had the last say. That I’m controlling this moment, and it makes me feel as if I have won this battle as he says another time. I can’t let you own me, he lets me know. I want to stay the victor. Willing to try again. I say yes to his desire.