by KissyO

Created on: July 22, 2008

An evening ritual it has become over the years. That which I do to satisfy myself, bringing about peace at the end of day. Sleep will not come until 'tis done. Brushing hair and teeth, preparing for a lover. A lover who's hands know every crevice, every wrinkle, every erotic place longing for touch. I am my own knowledgeable lover. Slow and deliberate I shall be, though the hour is late and tired I am. Conversations had this evening, leave the need for release. Not a chat had with a new acquaintance, with whom I share day to day experiences. No, this lover is an old and trusted friend. A teacher, a confidant, an intimidation artist, an enticer, a self-proclaimed bondage instructor all rolled into one. Rarely using vulgar or descriptive language, his messages are clear and intriguing. Thoughts shared, touch my inner self, becoming realities...unbridled sex in my mind.

Slipping off the comfortable t-shirt and thong, I stand before my bedroom window, gazing at the house across the street. A cool spring night breeze brushing lightly across breasts; nipples reacting instantly. Lit windows across the way; I know they watch me. Caught they have been, their eyes riveted to a scene unfolding before them. Blinds open, curtains fluttering in the breeze, the view unobstructed, for I too, am voyeur.

Envy felt for those who wore skimpy summer wear, bra-less, over the years has given way to the love of the way my nipples feel. Full breasts, an attraction to select men can be as I found later in life, searching for the ultimate sexual fulfillments. Such a soft dusty rose they are, only slightly to be seen against the paleness of my skin. The aureoles are large, ridges pronounced; nipples extending far enough to pinch. Heavy feelings erupt within my pelvis as fingernails pierce; the mouth and teeth of my teacher in mind's eye. Forcefully gripping, one nipple in his teeth, tightly biting, roughly tugging. Moans of delight at the first hints of exquisite pain yet to come.

Candles and incense stimulating senses. Cool sheets under bare skin invite comforting shivers. Lying back against the pillows, closing eyes, running hands up the inside of thighs to that place, wet and longing to be touched. Lightly running fingertips everywhere, so many sensations. Teasing myself knowing these moments all too fleeting. Lingering in my mind with him, fueling the fire to peak. His hands running across my ribs and stomach to between my thighs, caressing me and clutching at my flesh, kneading till

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