sábado, 23 de febrero de 2008


wetness is not only in the sea
I woke up at six in the morning and I could not sleep so, I had a hot shower, I prepared my handbag and I went out. I drove in the night with my music. Everything was very calm. I arrived to my beach apartment and the ocean was looking at me. The waves are dancing and touching the clouds. The color is almost grey. I was in my terrace and I imagine you here. I prepare my bath. I like when my bathtub is full of hot water and bath salts. I listen the waves.
I come in the water slowly and I can see you behind the water vapor. It is hot and you are in front of me. Your skin is wet and I can drink every drop of water in your face. Your hands are skating on my hips. My legs are around you again and now my lips are sending new balance in your body. My toilet soap is sliding between my hands and your hands, between my bosom and your chest, my stomach and your stomach.
I can hear your nice voice saying what you need. Your fingers dive looking for my legs, for my body. My tongue is hoarding red moans. My lips are germinating emotions on you. You are looking with your mouth for my little and rosy buttons. They are waking up with your nearness. Our mouths are investigating deeper and deeper each other. I close my eyes feeling your insurgent fruit.
You move me turning my waist to kiss my nape. This makes me crazy. In the same time, you, behind me, make your fingers looking for my belly and my bosom pressing me against you. The hot water is falling down brave between our different wetness that flow into shakings without our conscience. I felt your staff that chafes my sweet buttocks. Your desire is more and more furious. Your touch is harder and harder. Your kisses are more and more ardent. It is almost magic. The soap assails everything with a new sensuality. We forget everything except this. There are no more.
You stand me in front of you against the tile. The water continues falling more and more hot... The water and our desires... Our lips swagger tongues coming in very deep. You make that our tallness are perfect fitting us like in a puzzle. Everything is soft and eternal. I have your fruit between my hands combing it with foam. It is full of fire. You raise me, you drive your fruit now approaching it to my wet and tight cave, and with a sure push, you plant your fruit in me. I surround your neck with my fragile arms. Your mouth search for my mouth and walk with pants my shoulders, my face, my soul. We both are shaking fire crossing drunk sighs. Your force is wild and without control.
I can’t avoid to whisper:
-My love...- And you say:
-Repeat it...once again...- I repeat with devotion -Ask me for continuing...Tell me that you want to feel my sweet water inside of you...
I want what you want. Not later, not earlier.
-Yes... I want to feel you. Yes, my love...- This sob words make your explosion born to be free, born to be mine.

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