Saturday, February 27, 2016

Rosebud Romance










There's a very hot woman named Rose
who often wears very few clothes
a wild insatiable lass
with a most delectable ass
that I worship with my tongue and my nose




Friday, February 26, 2016

Dreams of Dark Eyes




An afternoon in the sun and you're all hot and sweaty when you arrive, in serious need of relaxation and the amorous attention of your favourite tongue slave. A cool room, your favourite beverage, scented candles, lavender in the air, soothing music. Your adoring lover humbled by your presence and eager to cater to your every whim. You hike up your flimsy dress and use it to fan your flushed face, then flop deep into your favourite chair, the one the with big arms, the one we've cum to know as the worship chair, and splay your nakedness lewdly over the arms. The 'dearest morsel of the earth' revealed in grand fashion in all it's glistening glory. The sacred altar of Venus. Your mesmerizing dark eyes speak softly and command me to kneel, then crawl, like a desperate beggar. You adjust the pillow to make yourself comfortable, knowing full well that this ain't gonna be over anytime soon.

This is the grand cathedral between your thighs and my head is bowed in reverence and silent prayer of thanks for the forthcoming feast, the slurpfest of my dreams. I lift up my eyes and gaze at the kingdom of heaven, the holy grail of womanhood. I'm awed and humbled even further, then drawn like a moth to the flame to inhale deeply the intoxicating scent of your cunt. That magical fragrance, strong and powerful, even spicier when mixed with the smell of sweat. Now totally enslaved I glance again into your stunning dark eyes, deep pools of blackness that I drown in whenever I look at you. I shudder in sheer delight when they suggest I stick out my tongue and taste your delicious flesh, delicately like a feather.

Sometimes your eyes close and your head lolls back -- then your hands gently guide my hunger to where and how you need me. You feed me the ultimate reward, life's greatest pleasure and sweetest treat -- your warm succulent juicy peach pie. I'm insatiable and no matter how much you give me, I'll want the same again tonight and tomorrow and the next day, essentially forever. I gobble your goodness, grunting and gorging like a ravenous wild beast, slurping greedily, my face proudly drenched with goddess nectar. I shudder again when I hear soft murmurs of pleasure as I lap your sacred oozing juice, and swallow every drop like a hungry kitten desperate for nourishment. My tireless tongue buried in the epicentre of your femininity, lashing feverishly and without mercy. My lips wrapped around your aching swollen pearl of pleasure, sucking gently at first. Then harder as you approach the inevitable glorious agony.

You explode like the eruption of a volcano accompanied by an earthquake. Squealing and convulsing, tidal waves of excruciating pleasure, one after another after another after another. Fountains of your sacred joy juice gushing over my lips and tongue and down my throat. Tasting and swallowing the exquisite essence of you is the greatest thrill of all.

Where are you dark eyes ?







Thursday, February 18, 2016

Scent of Cunt

So many intoxicants to choose from, but none more intoxicating and powerful than the unique scent of her warm juicy cunt, especially after a hot yoga session, and before a shower. Fragrance of Goddess. Pussy Perfume. Odour de Vulva. Aroma of Vagina. Essence of Womanhood. One could make millions.

Remove your panties and hold them under my nose where I can inhale the magical essence of your femininity -- then observe human knees turn to jelly.

A former lover used to gift me daily with a dainty pair of worn fragrant panties. She would leave them in my inside jacket pocket where I could discreetly bend my head at my desk and inhale the heart-pumping smell of her yummy cunt throughout the workday. Talk about drugs in the workplace ! If there was time in the morning before parting for work, she'd sometimes leave the delicious smell of her pussy on the fingers of my left hand and I'd sniff her magnificent aroma as I drove to work. Talk about distracted driving !

And if her panties were sopping wet when she got home, a special treat -- fragrant facewashing. Talk about a heavenly hors d'oeuvre !

Sunday, February 14, 2016

V-Day





Vagina Day or Vulva Day, your choice.

How appropriate that V-Day falls this year on a Sunday -- a traditional day of worship. A day on which women all over the world offer the holy grail of their womanhood to kneeling adoring worshippers. A day on which the most beautiful work of art ever created is viewed with awe and reverence and praised in poems and songs. A day that celebrates the blissful union of the human mouth and female vulva. A day on which vagina worshippers are rewarded for their devotion and passion with copious amounts of Goddess nectar. Celebrate V-Day communion and the incredible thrill of swallowing her sacred essence.

Amen.

Ah, woman !







Saturday, February 06, 2016

The Gift of the Imaginary Lover




My fantasies always involve kneeling humbly and reverently and worshipping at the Altar of Venus -- usually with a woman whom I've met casually, talked to, laughed with, and gazed into her eyes. Often an elegant customer with greying hair and knowing eyes, sometimes a mature sexy celebrity like Helen Mirren, sometimes a horny gaggle of young tongue riding girls who use my mouth and tongue mercilessly and endlessly. Or maybe an insatiable multi-orgasmic pillow princess. These fantasies are certainly delicious and exciting and gratifying but they're fleeting and lack a critical element -- romantic love. Raw lust and delightful debauchery, the heart not involved. One is left with an empty feeling. So I keep returning to the sweet girl who started it all, many years ago.
L was a petite beauty with mesmerizing dark eyes and a face that was part angel, part princess and part je ne sais quoi. A wholesome and conscientious girl, top student and model of decorum, yet warm and sincere. A chance meeting at our adjoining lockers in high school late one afternoon when the innocent conversation hinted about that taboo subject -- sex. Even though she was coy and teasing, I was so excited that this lovely lass would would go there, even lightly, with a shy naive lad like me. It was a defining moment, my sexual awakening, a coming of age. A spark touched my loins igniting an erection which I was fortunately able to hide with my jacket. I went straight upstairs to my room when I got home, relived the conversation, and masturbated feverishly to orgasm for the first time. I was 14.
I loved it and immediately became addicted to the joys of stroking and ejaculation, and to her. But we were taught that this was disgusting and shameful behaviour and I could not look her in the eye for very long the next day, or on the many days after I had indulged my secret fantasy. I feared that somehow she would look at me and know what I had been up to and disapprove, or express disgust or, horror of horrors, tell someone. Oh the shame and embarrassment and humiliation !
Though nothing ever happened physically between us, the fantasy persisted for several years and usually just involved kissing and touching and erotic conversation. Whenever I had a girlfriend the fantasy disappeared and L would lie dormant in my imagination, until I needed her again. Scenarios varied from time to time then permanently changed once I discovered the delicious delights of cunnilingus. Years later I learned that she was married with a family and the fantasies ended for the most part. Relationships came and went but eventually she was there again and so was passion and lust and the aching desire to taste her. Somewhere along the line the sexual fantasy matured into an intimate romantic one and became enormously gratifying.
When our class reunion was announced the fantasy returned in full erotic force. I was hoping she'd be there and in the weeks leading up to the event we made love countless times in my imagination. She was there and we talked briefly -- but I still had trouble looking into those mesmerizing dark eyes. Still afraid that she would look into my eyes and know everything. When I last saw her, she was laughing and smiling and sitting on someone else's knee.
Recently I saw L's photos on Facebook, still married, now a grandmother, and I've been besotted since. She's as gorgeous as ever, gracefully aged, poised and princessly, her adorable face virtually unchanged. But what's compelling is simply that it's her, looking right at me with those same devastating dark eyes. Maybe she has forgiven my sins and accepts that a stunning woman is going to be the much desired subject of many male fantasies. 
She's always on my mind. I fall in love and lust all over again regularly and it's like all the great love affairs of history rolled into one -- and she's in my arms. Endless deep kisses and uncontrollable passion, awe and reverence, hunger and lust. Nuzzling her soft neck and inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair. My hands squeezing the glorious globes of her delectable derriere. Soon I'm on my knees, eager to worship the holy grail of her womanhood. She's a Goddess and graciously offers me a taste of heaven. Everything about her is exquisite and she blesses me with her mews and moans of pleasure. I'm an eager tongue slave and happily addicted to this magnificent feast. It's like lover's communion when she convulses in the sweet agony and my mouth fills with her delicious essence. My heart pounds in my ears and warm tremors wash like waves throughout my entire being. Swallowing her sacred juice is the ultimate sacrament and the biggest thrill ever -- my cerebral orgasm.
Such a beautiful gift, such joy, such love and lust.




Monday, February 01, 2016

The Power and the Glory of the Mature Woman

The heart sees no skin colour, no wrinkles, no greying hair, no sagging flesh -- the heart sees only YOU in all your majestic ripening glory. Take me as your lover and I will embrace you and everything about you, and put the Mona Lisa smile of blissful contentment on your lips. Bring me your aging womanly body and your insecurities and let me adore and worship you, like the goddess Venus. Bring me your glorious wrinkles and precious flesh, so adorably rich with the tapestry of your life, and so irresistible to my hunger and passion. Bring me the serenity of your face, etched with lines of wisdom and painted with peace and tenderness. Let me kneel at your feet and gaze into your knowing eyes and worship the essence of your femininity. You are the most beautiful and desirable woman on the planet. This is my holy communion and I ask only that you bless me with your approval and your sacred nectar on my tongue

Dame Helen Mirren at 70