“Don’t let…. UUUhhhh, FUCK…. Don’t let go….” you beg, moaning and gasping for air just as I do with our ever so tightening squeezes with each other, and then just as I was about to reply to you -- to express something different than before to you -- something unexpected happens.
"I… aahh… mmmm… w-won't… oooww--mmmm…" I tear up, looking into your eyes with a pleading and almost caring look. empathy drowning my cattiness towards you. in this moment, we are similar beyond appearances. we mirror each other's feelings. our pained moans and gasps echoing back at each other like a never ending cycle of eternal flame lit up by pleasure and rivalry. better yet, the pleasure of our rivalry. a pleasure which then reveals itself some more via your lips.
"mmmm…" I moan into your lips as you peck my own, to which I respond without shock or hesitation by kissing you a little longer. just pressing my lips into yours, and each second our lips stay connected, my hug around you slowly loosens. my hands scratch lightly and slowly at your back as if playing a cello with vicious messaging through music. except the music only ever comes out much sweeter. there's agony in our embrace, but on top of that especially now, there is passion for each other.
"kiss… me…" I whisper into your lips as I move on from simply pressing my lips against yours. "kiss me… like… you mean it… you… bitch… mmmm…" I hiss, moaning as I then proceed at last to make out with you. there and then, my hands reach up to the back of your neck; caressing you and then pulling your face steady and close to my own.
never letting you go. not a chance. I need you. I want you.
in expressing this to go along with the kiss, my grinding against you body to body takes a slower and smoother motion. almost as if I'm dancing sweetly to you. it is as if I want our bodies to become one more in pleasure, and not just in pain.
Moments of Rapture
I can hear you speak, and me reply. Feel the tremble of your lips as you whisper to me, and sense the same vibration when I do the same back.
What are we saying? Where do our minds linger in this moment of embrace and intransigence?
I would tell you if I knew. Recite it for you, if I could make out the words offered. But I am too engrossed. Too intoxicated. Too lost in this moment…. This struggle…. This mutual bearhug with you.
The heat of it, both literal and figurative. The intensity of it, more than anything we have ever known. And though I cannot describe what we say to each other, as minutes pass and then pile behind us. From single digits to tens, then on and on. I can feel myself giving way. Giving in.
I can’t squeeze you anymore. Can’t keep my bearhug locked on you. And so, somewhere in the madness and chaos of this carnal, cathartic, and crushing hug, I find a way to squirm. To shift as my arms release you. Pulling our womanhoods apart, as strings of essence cling to and bridge between them. Uncrossing our legs, so I can try to climb.
To stand? To tackle? Again I am without answer, as before I reach zenith, you suddenly squeeze again. Hard. And in your arms and in your lap I collapse. My bare breasts framing your beautiful face, as I look down into your eyes.
Shivering as I let loose the most delicate little whimpers. My lips hovering just above yours. My mind finally clearing enough to process sound, speech, and sequence.
“Don’t let…. UUUhhhh, FUCK…. Don’t let go….” I beg you, as my legs drop to either side of your thighs. Leaving me at your mercy. In your grips, and just as I see a well of empathy in your eyes, I can do not else but peck your soft lips with my own. yt