Author: aphroditefatoz

I’m in the company’s kitchen and my mind is full of improper thoughts. I’m kind of cataloguing the male staff around into categories: shaggable, marriageable, datable, fuckable in doubles (oooh!), just cute, horrible, no fucking way, etc. I was wearing my most innocent face but my thoughts must have leaked out of me because for some unfathomable reason the most delicious of them decided to show me his belly button. Gosh! I thought of tripping and falling face down into his exposed belly, ripping his underwear with my teeth and mouthing his dick. Apparently he was showing me how the company’s trousers weren’t fitting well.

Barely able to breathe normally I excuse myself and go to the backup room. It is a little locked room with a table, a rack of computer stuff and backup units. Daily I have to change the backup tapes. I left the door ajar and sat at the chair, changing the two tapes, wearing my iPod, comfortable with my back to the door. That is when I hear someone behind me and the closing of the door. I take a second to realise what is happening because I’m distracted with a song playing in my ears and fumbling with the tape cases. Before I’m able to turn around to look who is there I feel an open hand going through my hair,  I have an intense conscience of each of his fingers caressing my head. That felt surely as a man’s hand.

I turn and there he is, my most recent fantasy character: the man that had shown me his belly button. I have a pretty accurate radar to detect men that are good in bed. This one shows all the good signs of being one of those, his age doesn’t matter too much, I am confident that his years of existence were enough to teach him “the art”. Actually, just by the way he is holding my hair I am sure that I’m right. He doesn’t say a word, pulls my face to his and kisses me passionately.

I am happy with the silence, it wouldn’t be good if someone heard anything from outside of the room. Funny that I don’t feel that he is in a rush, he just kisses me like he has all the time in the world and releases small, almost inaudible, moans.

I can feel a heat spreading from my middle section to my whole body. Being cold most of the day it is a powerful feeling. I surface from the kiss to take a deep breath, look into his beautiful eyes and get lost in his gaze. He is breathing heavily but wears a cheeky sexy smile. Still holding my hair he keeps looking into my eyes, maybe looking for confirmation. Whatever he is searching for, he finds it.

He kisses me again and starts trying to read my body in Braille, exploring each piece of me with his hands. His smell is of sea and the wind, so fresh and delicious. He seems to carry in his hair the contact with the ocean. I start touching whatever bare skin I can find. His neck and down his neck line, my hand searches for the belly from which the image was still burning in my mind.

His taste was inebriating and by the look on his face, so is mine. He gets his hands to open my jeans and one skilfully slips inside. It is a difficult task to laugh without a sound when his expression changes to something between amazement, disbelief and childish pleasure. I could feel him caressing the soft and hairless surface and my knees almost buckle when his fingers find the core.

I opened his trousers, the ones that were large and loved the sensuality of his underwear, I look down and then up again, letting him see my pleasure in my face. Kissing his neck and opening his shirt, trailing kisses on his chest as I attack each button, I open his shirt then his trousers; going down and downer I could feel him getting hard and harder.

When I was finally kneeling in front of him I breathe through his boxers, transferring my heated air through to his cock. His head, the upper head went back and he closed his eyes, mouth open, with difficulty without making a sound.

Then I lower the underwear and reach my prize. I get his hand and, looking up to meet his eyes, guide it to the back of my head. His cock gets even harder. I put it into my mouth, while I strike the shaft with one hand and hold the base and the balls with the other. I make it wet with my saliva and then pass the tip all over my face and neck only to suck it again. I use my tongue on the tip of his penis circling the most sensitive part and give special attention to the “special v”. He releases a low guttural sound. I look at him and stop to take my finger to my lips for the universal sign of silence.

As soon as I get back to the job he comes into my mouth. I swallow. He takes a few seconds to move and pulls me up and hugs me. It is difficult to breathe how strong his embrace is. He is inhaling heavily into my ear and shaking a bit. In a few minutes he gets calmer. We straighten our clothes and praying no-one sees us, get out of the place and back to work.

My productivity is near zero all afternoon as all I can think of is the phrase he whispered to me just before we left the backup room: “tonight, your place”.

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My eyes are closed. The sun warms my naked skin. I open my eyes and sigh in pure pleasure. The view is astonishing, the horizon covers an intense blue sea, the colour seems almost unreal with its sunlight illumination.

I revel in a most comfortable chair on a sundeck. Except that the chair starts caressing my breasts and moves with the rhythm of a breathing; and suddenly the comfort is no longer as there is a hard stick pocking my back.

The feeling of completion, fulfilment, love emanates from me to my “chair”, not the man of my dreams, but the one of my visualisations.

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My hands are against your chest. I can feel what I call “your texture”… it is not only the way your skin is as smooth as velvet, it is the feel of the muscles underneath it. I love it.

We are naked and you are dancing with me, in between one dance and another you teach me the feeling of tango. It is a difficult dance, one don’t start by learning steps, one starts by feeling their partner, feeling the weight of the leader. And that is really what I feel: You, your weight change, your movements.

It is the best dance of my life and yet, never have I danced so badly. I am dizzy, out of centre, my axis is the same as the earth: inclined. If only the vector of the gravity didn’t point into a ninety degree angle into the Earth, I could have dealt with it.

When in a couple dancing you (the follower, the woman) are supposed to see the whole of your partner,  his leads, his hands. All I could see were parts. I got obsessed by your chest, it felt… divine. Then, whenever you turned me and lead me from behind, my brain melted.

From that night, so many details kept to my mind and they now drive me insane, making me wonder if I was the only one there. Could I have imagined you?

Have I not felt your hands on my body, making my eyes close against my will? Didn’t we share a dessert  tangled up in the couch with only sweat between us? Each helping the other to spoon pieces of the cake because the other hand was lost into the mess of our bodies?

Didn’t I name your smell, inhale your essence as you did mine? I remember my smell over your mouth. Your kisses, your eyes. I have a strong recollection of your hardness against my softness.

And your laughter, all night our laughter making music to our happiness. Could I have created that you said you were happy?

Could it all be a dream?

I thank thee, dream of mine, for the loving night we have shared. The idea of you is so enticing I would love some other chances to try it… if it is not to happen, I hope to keep you always, in my heart and in my writing, this place where I keep my little pieces of a huge love I don’t mind sharing.

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Flashbacks are not something that come in order, they just assault you in the middle of your day, night, with no respect whatsoever for what you are doing. These visuals come sometimes with smell and taste but usually your hearing is suddenly impaired and all you can hear is your own breathing.

They are also something you should never ever, ever, share with the person that caused them to you. It will open you in half and let such person know how much you were paying attention, will bare your heart, lust and soul and give to the other such empowerment that should be guarded by any means. Also it can freak the other person out. Happened before…

I know this should be locked under high security, instead I send it to you… bad me. This is just as it is: my writer’s mind taking every sensation to its ultimate instance.

The strongest sensation is the feeling of your arms around my cold, wet, slick body, naked in the water, the sun, the kisses, the smell. And I am jolted straight to the vision of you lying next to me, next day, so well behaved and far; and all I could think of, was taking you into my mouth… not your mouth, your arms, your fingers, not this time. As far as naughty desires come, this was high levelled.

And from there the imagination is sent right back to the day before when the desire was reality and the act was actually committed. Salivating, I realise I am hardly breathing. The head is a bit fuzzy, the heart beat, a bit off.

I am laughing out loud by myself now, from your saying you would pay good money for that massage. Bam! Flashback of the whole massage. The stronger is the feeling of your body under my hands. I have to confess that the idea wasn’t for you, it was such a delicious sensation to feel you under my hands, I was having fun, and then, it got better, and not only my hands were happy and sighing. I still can feel myself gliding, feeling from your back to your calf sliding between my thighs.

Kisses… kisses… oh and shampoo, more shampoo and more shampoo. So innocent were you accepting my offer again and again and I was just doing it for you to take the product to your head, watching your arms flex their muscles, the perfect torso, like a Greek god’s statue. Remember to include that movement to your choreographies, it is priceless.

Smelling your neck and you telling me about my scent, oh my!

Sorry.

v

v

v

I needed some breathing space.

I still found it pretty interesting how you guessed so quickly of my interest for “the other side” of the force.  I can only assume you were paying as much attention as I was. So obviously this is the flashback that consumes me now. An entrance millimetre by millimetre.

It is important to say the small movements, the touch of the hand on the neck, the tip of a finger over a bared chest, the slight change of positions, the contraction of one muscle, are very perceptible when one is in a state of alternate reality.

Old flashbacks come to mind and obviously dancing in dark places comes in first. I don’t know if I managed to tell you in a good way how important, unforgettable, life changing that was. I believe that many things that happen in our lives are like a life on their own. That moment is finished and meant the world in that moment, like one of the teachers said in a workshop: during that song, that dance, that music, you (the couple) are like madly in love, as if the world would finish, when the music is done, the world can continue spinning as before, you smile and are again madly in love in the next song…

It is like that, that old flashback: a whole world and dramatic story in its own: the naked dancing tale. Undressing while moving, each touch, each move, each empty wall, are still there in the strange recesses of my mind. Seriously one of the best foreplays of my history.

Oh, then comes the memory of  “the play” of Saturday, it is incredibly sexy and inebriating the look of a man in ecstasy under you, his abandon, his neck slightly back, the way the eyes close even when trying not to. The feeling of looking for the reactions to your most intimate muscle movements, and the way you suffer it even greater, because in trying to affect a reaction, the “equal force in opposite direction” thing doesn’t really work, you bend laws of physics because in trying to affect him you get at least twice as affected and while trying to look into his eyes to savour his expressions you know your eyes are involuntarily closing.

v

v

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More breathing space.

Gosh, I will have to send this, more! I will have to publish it! I need to have at least one reader for this piece. This is what I do, I drink moments in life as if they were the most powerful drug or the strongest drink, I am usually sober as I need to be able to keep my senses open to all sensations.

I know I write with the same passion and abandonment of walking, a sunset, a cat, or other stuff, but flashbacks are always the favourite pieces that flow from my hands.

I hope you can take this as a gift, a tribute to your delicious dalliance…

F**k, I will send this. I need to have at least one reader for this piece. This is what I do, I drink moments in life as if they were the most powerful drug, or the strongest drink, this is probably why I can’t drink, I need to be able to keep my senses open to all sensations. I know I write with the same passion and abandonment of walking a beach, dancing and other stuff, but flashbacks are always the favourite pieces that flow from my hands…

I hope you can take this as a gift, a tribute to your delicious fucking 🙂

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I am lying on a soft bed, I love the texture of the sheets and pillows. I can feel my skin has that special texture, that amazing smoothness that comes only with happiness and fulfilling sex.

I am on my side, sleepy but not asleep, I can see there is light outside seeping through the window and I can hear the sound of the ocean pounding nearby.

Through my barely open eyes I see this man and my heart does a loop inside my chest. I know I am happy, that I am in a relationship that is simple, that I can tell this lover anything. In my body are the signs of amazing intimacy and pleasure, I remember the feeling of satisfaction, elation, that delicious soreness that comes with the right kind of exercise. I can tell that if I look in the mirror I will see myself glowing.

I look again at my naked lover. He is athletic, slim but with beautifully defined muscles, he is tall, taller than 1.8 m and with a high endurance. He is this way not because of the love for his body and beauty, but because he loves the physical activity that makes him this way. He loves exercising as I love dancing. That is why he takes a good care of himself and his health and always will. As will I.

He opens his light eyes and closes them again with an insinuation of smile on his lips. Are those amazing eyes green? Blue? Something like that. I love the colour.

This man of mine is like me in so many ways: he is in touch with his core, he knows what are his dreams and moves in their direction, having fun on the way, all the time. He is a man with no religion but highly spiritual, keen to get a better understanding of life, but with no non-sense.

He has a good financial position, a good station in life and he is about friends and laughter, love, harmony, abundance and travels.

We know we can do whatever we want, we feel free in the relationship we have, we have each our own friends and hobbies and independence, but we are illuminated when we are together.

When our eyes meet we can feel the love and deep connection, this is a profound man, ready to open me to supreme love. I find him extremely handsome, my eyes lit when I see him and I am very proud to have him by my side. I also feel so pleased to know he is proud of me, that he feels I am an asset in his life. In the bedroom he is bold, uninhibited, free from restrains, we experiment with our sexuality and we have a great open communication. Our intimacy is fantastic. It is so amazing how we can go overboard and still respect each other’s limits in every occasion.

In the back of my mind are wondrous things we say and do to one another.

It is all a bit magic, this moment of just being there, without any movement and knowing all this that I know without a word. I know, for example, we have a magic connection, we can read each other’s minds and thoughts, deepest desires, and we feel each other’s energy patterns.

We are both very mature in our dealings as a couple but we enjoy life and the moment as a child enjoys a big melting pot of ice cream. We feast on happiness all the time. And we can laugh when sad, and connect when angry, we can see beyond pain and hard times and learn.

I love his voice, this man of mine has a velvety voice that sends shivers down my spine with each word. When we dance I turn into a pink strawberry puddle melting with his touch, even if the dance is just a slight movement of hips.

He is so brave, not only to go after what he wants in life but to know I am part of what he wants. He has conquered me as he does every day. We don’t take each other for granted ever, ever, we value this love every day. He shows it boldly, he also accepts my offers of affection and love.

He loves to read me, as in reading what I write, and he is proud that I am what and who I am.

We accept each other as we are, even the parts where we are not the same, the things we don’t both like. It makes us richer for being different in those instances.

He smells good, doesn’t smoke, no drugs, like me he is healthy and sober almost all the time.

He loves to lead me; I melt with his kisses and his touch. We are so good in bed that we are afraid of melting walls and causing earthquakes in our encounters. Sometimes we spend a long time loving and sexing from body to soul. We love our creativity in intimacy.

He is very attracted to me and reacts to my slightest inputs. He is a sensual beast and appreciates my own sensuality. I feel so comfortable; I know all this with a profound surety. I get him and he gets me… totally. Life is easy, life is good.

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