Z: (Answering his
phone... putting it on speaker... he talked to Ang) Late again?
A: I had an
emergency.
Z: Oh!
A: Yup. Zingo's had meatloaf on sale... I had to stop. You know how fast that sells out.
Z: We are having
meatloaf for lunch? (Happiness lifted
his tone)
A: No. I am having meatloaf for dinner. You are taking me out for lunch.
Z: I am? Why?
A: Presidents Day and
Washington's Birthday.
Z: We are celebrating
that? Wasn't that a few days ago?
A: Yes. And yes.
Z: (He knew better
than to question further) See you when
you get here. (Zi sat at his keyboard and
considered where the muse led to start the day and began) Oscar
Wilde wrote, “To be in love is to surpass oneself.”… over his life he has
learned that love has made him a better man… when he gazes into the eyes of
someone he loves… and discovers their soul… embraces it… finds that he could
make them happier… He realizes that he is one step closer to
self-actualization… this is selfish… but in a well-it-really-ain’t-kinda-way… He
finds that being in love makes him become a far better person. He says, “That being in-love is fine but
being in-lust is paramount... so be my paramount paramour… my lover who is my
sexual crave… be my eyes to bath in… be my soul to discover… be my wild and wet
possibilities." (He paused, read what he wrote and considered) I
like the sentiment... the lust ... but not the wordage. It needs a poem.
My bounty is a
bountiful as the air I see
My love is as deep;
given by the soul of thee
The more I learn
The more I yearn
Come to me and swallow
my wanting pee-pee
So fourteen year old of me… but it makes me smile. Will it make the readers feel? Or will they just think yuck. Where is that Ang? (He adjusts that which men have been
adjusting since the beginning of all time and began to type) Does the
spirit of his lust feel sated by her... not yet… he, the spirit, craves more of
her… does she have a naughtier side… he wants to play with her… to feel her up…
to shove a cock into her… why… for the fun of it… the love of it... does she
have a favorite dildo… should they buy one together… does she like her wrists
tied… does her naughty girl side like the sense of a blindfold… does she open
every orifice for pleasure… lust wants her naughtier the naughty girl side… to
blow him… regularly… might she?.. what a nudgy pain in her ass he could be…
enjoy the anal… wouldn't she! That
is so libido driven. Where is the poetry
of it? I need Ang. (He spun in his chair, one rotation, two,
stopping at seven... and then typed right after his eyes stopped revolving) She wrote about pussy and nipples… hardening
clits and nips… wet wild moments… all shared in raw conversation… He was
captured in those thoughts with her… to find her nipples harden with the
pleasure that is hoped to be... to reach to feel them and play with them
between his fingers, knowing that the more they are felt, the wetter her pussy
gets. They have reverted to the "typical" language that is used in
this type of conversation.… this word picture is wonderful… he wants to know
more about that pussy… those nipples… he wants to know this lady craves… but
more so… the lust in him and hopefully in her needs to know… the man has
interest… the boy has needs… He wonders if she can satisfy him… he is a complex
being… one day he wants to neck… the next… paint her in oil and roll about just
to see how it feels… the next tie her between two trees and eat her cunt until she
cries for him to stop… He has needs… is she you up for the games he plays? Still too raw. I need a story with both passion and
emotion. A poem.
Tease
Tease
Please
Please
Tease
(He sighs, taps his fingers, drinks a bit of coffee, frowns
at its chill) Boring. But it is pure. My man is lustful and his quest
tentative. I need to have him move her
to the place when her panties fall spontaneously to her ankles. (He types)
“Mutual love, the Crown of all our
bliss.” was given by John Milton… He was not quite a Milton fan but this does
make sense… the most perfect love is that of 69… pure and intimate gifts…
granted for the expressed purpose of pleasing the other… granted simultaneously…
this is simply glorious… so he asks… will my paramour 69 him… let him give as
well as she does? He loves the idea of bliss… a well under used word… He
imagined sex with her would be blissful… He wondered what love might be… was
she giving… was she selfish… he wonders… the dance is the Blissful Cha-cha… 69…
should they? Again, lust without
connection. (He tried again) She wrote and gave him a slight woodie, he was
thankful, “Thinking of you makes me nice and creamy… you are inside my heart…”
… cool… mustache ride?... where can he get a fake mustache… would she love to
feel the softness of his face running between her legs. Also, wanting to feel
the wetness between her legs, the feel of his tongue lightly rubbing against
the want of her... take this as an offer… cool…He would love to place his
tongue in her… wiggle it about… his hands pulling her ass… fingernails drawing
lies upon her skin… helping her feel alive… He desires to ask her pussy to
spread… one finger at a time… He needs to discover her clitoris… longs to see
what she might bring… not for himself… but them… his teeth grabbing at it… his
growls speaking to the animal within him… his gentle quest of cunnilingus
eventually turning into a sojourn of primal urges… wild and raw passion… the man
in him becoming strong… assertive… and asking… does she crave a man in her… on
her… wanting her… does she feel that she can reveal her inner beast? Primal is so perfect. (He grinned, then added) He may
have shared this fantasy… it is a recurring one for him… They could arrange for
one of his many fantasies to come true… He has many… He'll word picture a bit
of it… they agreed to meet… He'll give her a hotel room number… he'll ask her
to dress in a short skirt… a loose top… white panties… "Leave your bra
home m’Dear…" Just before she gets
out of her car as per his instructions, he'll removes her panties… sign and
date them… place them into a gift box… red bow please… a little card… a note of
appreciation… and she'll come to their room… knock on the door… the door will open…
the room will be dark… she'll hesitate… but enter… the door will close behind her…
the room black… she will be grabbed and taken to the bed… (Again, a pause,
a thought to make the prose of the character more in the present) the box
falls to the floor… she is bent over face upon the bed… the blanket pulled over
her head… her pussy revealed as her skirt is pushed aside… seconds turn into
minutes turn into an hour… lower lips meet upper ones… a tongue sexplores…
fingers crave access… flavor is sexperienced… she aches for more yet, the more
ends… the door closes… she rises… turns on the lights… notices the box has been
opened… the panties taken… she sits wondering… minutes later… He opens the
door… bright eyed… and says, “Sorry I was late… I left the door open… see you
noticed!”… she says nothing… They have gentle and wonderfully loving sex… she
teaching him to love her… and he wanting to learn. Weird fantasy?… yep… but… there is a
gentle risky nature to it… I believe sex needs just a little naughty embrace to
it… not vile or harsh… just naughty.
There are hundreds of fantasies… hundreds… do we have enough days to try
them all?
Can paramour be m’Lady
Can paramour be
m’Whore
Give me her
For I’m a cur
Can paramour be m’More
A: (The door opened...
Ang put her dinner in the refrig... and joined Zi in the office) What are you doing?
Z: I wrote a real
cool dirge of passion. But it needs a
story. Fix it. I have to run out and get my dinner.
A: Be back by lunch. I'm hungry!
***
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.
Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com
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