Z: It's May...it's May...
outdoor lovin' begins this day. (He sang
to the window)
A: (Ang
noticed that Zi was wearing a sombrero and pointed to it)
Z: Cinco de
Mayo on the fifth. I'm going to party el
Mexicali style.
A: How?
Z: I got a
coupon for half-off tacos.
A: (Shaking
her head) Whatja working on?
Z: Nothing.
A: (Attempts to peer over his shoulders) First person voice, oooohhhh.
Z: (Blocked her view) You’ll see it when it is done.
A: Looks done.
Z:
Half-baked.
A: Speaking
of which, there are peanut butter cookies just out of the oven. I left them warm and gooey on the counter.
Z: (As if
suddenly hypnotized, he follows the yummy scent, but glances back for a moment,
proving his faculties were still intact)
No peeking.
A: Of course
not. (Once he was out of the room she
jumped into his chair) I’m not peeking,
I’m reading!
You run to see me, dressed in a long flowing white
summer dress. I catch my breath, feel my
heart pounding as the unmistakable breast-line that I constantly think about
privately is accentuated by the dress.
You have that half smile on your face when you first see me, a bit of a
blush attached to your cheeks, and that unmistakable need-to-be-near-you look
in your lush, passionate eyes.
You jump into my arms and I swing you about. That corny sort of swing that one often sees
in old movies. We can be corny at times,
and somehow it seems right. As I slid
you back down to the floor, your hands land on either side of my cheeks, drown
for a bit in my eyes as if you hadn’t seen those eyes for ages and had to make
certain they were still there, that the emotion you feel for me is reflected
right back to you. You bring your face
down slowly and then the last inch is hard and abrupt, kissing me with a power
of a happy lover reunited.
Your arms are now about my neck and once again I
have lifted you off the floor in an embrace of sincere joy. We spin and spin, laughing. You ignored the week of stank that I have
developed working nearly non-stop, as we wrestle tongues and hold each other
tightly.
I walk you to the wall of the foyer, aggressively,
I push against it. You adore that
aggression, you can’t get enough of it.
You crave it with a need that won’t stop when it comes to me. I’m not sure why you want me this way? I don’t think you do either. It’s instinctual, chemical, spiritual, and
natural. Neither of us get it, but we
know it is impossible to ignore it.
I lower you to your bare feet, still kissing,
soulful yet now, more lustful. My arms
drop from your waist. We stop kissing
and you looked into my eyes, deeper this time.
I saw love in yours. It has been
there from the beginning. You try to
hide it, rarely say it, but that love doesn’t stop, a constant tide that moves
through me and into you.
In my eyes, you see an animalistic, primal want of
you. I take the elastic top of your
dress and pull it down, free a white tit on which I bury my face, I go for the darker pink rosette, pull it
hard into my mouth then, I grabbed at your skirt, jerk it upward, tucking it
between us.
Your panties are there for my touch, and I touch
them, tease them, run my hands over them as if I own them, but then again, I do
because I own the lust of you and they are part of that.
I reach in my pocket, pull a fishing knife, open
it, and draw the back of the blade up your left leg, hook the panty's side, cut
it, then cut the other, grab the sheer cloth and pull it from you. My intention obvious, I close the knife and
put the knife in my pocket. Within that
same motion I open my pants, drop them to my ankles, lift your left leg at the
knee and enter you with a well-formed erection.
You are so ready, so eager. You bite my shoulder as I enter you,
roughly. It is quick. The cumming quicker. You feel traces of it roll and run down you
right leg and know how much I wanted you, lusted for your pleasure. Somehow, the lust is grand. We both understand that.
We want our pleasure but we want the other to be
it. I bit at your neck as I fill you
once more. I whisper… “I missed you so,
you are my dream.”
I nip your lobe and return to your neck, pull at
the skin with my suck. Below, the ooze
floods out followed by, “You are my desire fulfilled, but for this one moment
then I desire you again… even more than I did before. Each day brings me more want of you. Today, I want hard!”
We hold each other tight as lovers do, not people
that just shared sex, but as people who are in love. You look into my eyes and see the man, not
the animal. That animal ran down your
leg. You see the purely honest eyes of
man who wants you, all of you, not just the body, not just the sex, or pure
lust. Eyes that cried to be in your
hold… eyes that spread love… and of forevers.
A: (She added a comma here, a quote symbol there
and grinned, while muttering to herself)
Hmmmm, this is really good.
(Suddenly, it appeared on the blog.)
Z:
(From the kitchen) You’re not peeking,
are you?
A: Of course not. I didn’t peek at all….read and blogged it,
but didn’t peek.
Z: It wasn't edited! (Pounding footsteps could be heard coming
from the kitchen into the office. He roared
his displeasure as he realized the story was live on the internet, but his
protest came out weak for his mouth was full of cookies.)
[READER
ALERT --
Look for Part 2 of this blog on May 15th ]
***
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Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com
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