AH ! THE JOY...

MONDAY, DECEMBER 26, 2011

AH ! THE JOY...

...of sharing some quiet time together near the fireplace.

Any better idea ?

I can't guarantee that the WHOLE time will be quiet, though...

PS: This photo by Gleb Kaygorodov was already published in my post of May 7th, 2011

"Redheads - A Chemical Analysis". But I don't think anybody will complain. Right ?

The Fireplace

By Zaphod Button

Candles and fireplace suffuse the room with a sensuous glow. The flickering fire casts dancing shadows which enhance delicious feminine curves. Your voluptuous beauty radiates in all directions.

Tonight, You have given permission that I may pleasure You. Time today was spent preparing. Hardwood for the fire, Canadian maple cut and split a year earlier will give a warm constant fire. A bottle of Prosecco well chilled in the ice bucket with another in reserve. The almond oil for Your massage warmed to perfect temperature. With a soft rug in front of the fire, all is in readiness.

We sit together on the floor, facing one another, sipping occasionally, and chatting about the day’s events, the world situation, the state of being, and other topics that come to mind. Our conversations are always wide ranging and thoughtful. From time to time, we disagree and animated discourse within the bounds of propriety ensues.

As You warm to the fire, I lean to You and with a kiss share some Prosecco. We smile and giggle before I slip the robe from Your shoulder and kiss that beautifully rounded form. With a sigh, You lean back, roll onto Your front, and I take my cue to begin Your massage.

Your robe is eased from Your arms and shoulders and drawn lower leaving Your back exposed and Your nether area demurely covered. With Your head resting on one hand, I take up Your arm and begin.

My fingers apply firm deep pressure easing Your muscles and enhancing Your circulation. Years of yachting have left me with strong hands and a grip which never fails; they work their magic on Your muscles. Even so, every stroke, wringing motion, pressure, is paradoxically a gentle caress. In every touch is the expression of my devotion and adoration.

One arm follows the other, then Your neck and shoulders, and on to Your spine and scapula. Your skin glows now with the warmth of the fire, the response to my touch, and a growing inner warmth.

As I massage Your feet and then move upwards to Your thighs, a deep sigh passes Your lips and Your legs move apart. Removing Your robe completely, my hands knead, stretch, and wring Your thighs before moving just a little higher.

My hand slides upward and forward to cup Your mound. With a touch now delicate, I run my fingers lightly over Your vulva and feel You shiver. Softly massaging Your perineum, I feel Your hips rise slightly and legs part further. More direct now, I slide my fingers down along the crack between Your buttocks before exploring the soft delicate folds between Your legs.

With finger tips working lovingly, I caress, tease, press, and circle Your most feminine centre. Your breath quickens and Your hips begin to move in a timeless rhythm. As Your moment approaches, my other hand explores Your ass and a fingertip is pressed to that other special place.

With my languorous approach (sailors know the slow route is best), Your moment similarly rises to a crescendo with exquisite luscious timing. Your hips rise slightly as a cry forms in Your throat and a rolling surging wave sweeps over and through You. Aftershocks spasm through Your body as my hands ease their motion to match Your tempo.

Allowing You a few moments to recover and roll over, I now press my mouth to You. As Your first orgasm begins to subside, my tongue and lips work their magic on Your nether lips and the delicious rosebud at Your entrance. With my tongue pressing, circling, and teasing I slip two fingers inside You only to feel Your muscles clench and grip hard.

Quicker this time and with still greater intensity, Your body is overwhelmed. Your legs clamp my head between Your thighs, both hands grab at my head and pull me to You, Your hips buck hard, and a sound half-way between a growl and a snarl followed by a scream erupts from You.

As You recover from la petite mort, Your eyes open to see me positioned between Your legs guiding myself to You. I look down to see Your lips swollen and glistening wet. With a forceful motion I thrust hard and enter You, filling You.

Lost now in my lust and passion, I quickly lose control and thrust hard and deep into You. Mashing Your lips as I pound against You, my balls slap against Your ass with every thrust.

Feeling You clamp onto my shaft, I cannot resist and in a moment feel my offering rush through me and spill forth to fill You with hot, wet, stickiness. With a desperate cry, I collapse onto You.

The firelight continues to bathe us in its warmth as we roll to the side and I soften and slip from You. I take You into my arms and embrace You with the strength of one who would protect You, who would safeguard You…

One who is Yours.

Copyright Zaphod Button