“You know, you think of sex like a man.”
For any other woman, his simple declaration would have been mildly insulting. Perhaps, he might have ended up with a swift slap across his face or a drink in his lap. Of course, knowing me as he does, with his sexy smile that indicated a challenge to take up the topic of discussion, it was more likely he would end up with me in his face or in his lap.
When he gets that sparkle in his eyes as he watches me, my smile matching his across the table, I always want to do or say something that will cause him to absolutely stutter. And, I can. You see…that is where this is headed. I feel powerful when he stutters. The visual washing across his mind triggered by my words describing the acts of carnal pleasure that I would like to commit with him… (smile)…yes, I can make him stutter. He knows, when I feel powerful, the sexual animal emerges to stretches her muscles and prowl his being. Aural sex is a specialty of the house and he eats here often.
“That’s funny…I only know of one man that can keep up with me. What are the rest doing for fun?” I am baiting him as I smile back, a potent mixture of confidence and innocence as a lure, to shift the conversation to him. Want to play? Yes, I am in…It’s a silent concession of playmates.
In truth, I feel him moving inside of me already in mental masturbations massaging the deepest parts of my womans soul. A deceptive dance of souls grinding against one another…where bodies do not…tasting, watching, and feeling…expressing need and want…but not touching. No…not touching yet.
“You talk about things oral sex without blushing. You chat about a favorite sex toy or masturbation like you are discussing a grocery list,” he challenges again using words that will conjure images in my mind. It works. My eyes become blurry from the overwhelming visuals of licking drops of water from his pink skin softly scented with his soap after a shower. His words are delicate, but the visuals are vicious and demanding as they run waves of hot sensations from my nipples that are pushing hard against my sweater to the liquid pooling in more private places.
The time is now. I lean toward him to engage his stare and provide a better view of the menu. I dare him to break eye contact.
“That’s true. For instance, right now, I am visualizing the sensation of sucking something sticky and sweet from you…like dark chocolate…except warmer and thicker….so I had time to enjoy the taste of you mingled with the flavor of the sweetness and the saltiness of your body. It would be slow, so I could roll you around on my tongue… savoring the shape, feel, and thickness of you in my mouth until you moaned with pleasure and begged me for release,” I speak softly to him so he has to lean in to hear me.
“…And…do you…release me?” His smile is gone and his eyes are completely focused. I know he has seen this visual before by the way he is breathing. Stutter for me baby…it makes me feel powerful.
“No,” waiting a heartbeat for the word to bounce back against his brain, “you have four more fingers left for me to enjoy and I have all night.”
It was a compliment. I think of sex “like a man.” In reality, the sexiest part of any woman is not only how she thinks of sex, but in how she fuels her soul with passion and pleasure. I may think of sex “like a man,” but I have the soul of a sexual woman. And, never let it be forgotten that, in nature, women are the hunters. ~~Dee