The heavens open, and arms stretch forth in the shining, highlighting what is beauteous, graceful and feminine. An angel who walks among unknowing men uttering ethereal whisperings, tearfully awaits her wings and a beautiful ascension.
Jeffrey Osborne – Only Human
Agony is every waking hour of me. So many have professed to truly love me, but they have left me in the throes of sorrow and anxiety. Still, for true love I reach, but in my loneliness, all that I clutch are tear-soaked pillows and bed sheets. I confess silently to the walls around me that I pray for an angel to rescue me; I stare out of my window on full moon nights to witness the glory of the heavens clearly, hoping my angel will descend gracefully and kiss me passionately.
The pleasure from pleasing is manifest in moaning and wetness. There is an intensity in throbbing when intimacy is heightened. Lustful eyes gaze upon beautiful contours that will be licked, kissed and further explored. Sincere whisperings of intimate confessions is eroticism in its purest form.
The grinding of her pleasure receptive clit against the stiff eagerness of his tongue causes her to feel every measure of his intent. She sucks his large hardness at the same time he does this. The more she intensely sucks, the more his purposed tongue wants to explore. The both want more. Her skin is soft and fragranced from bath oils and perfume. Her perfectly polished toes in peep toe heels had already enticed his desire for her before the position they are in. Her supple breasts are pressed against his euphoric flesh as she teases his cock-head and strokes his thickness. She looks back at him and takes a long pause, because what’s being done to her causes her body to shudder. She moans and closes her eyes to fully take in the ecstasy, leaning back slightly to feel the thrusts and writhing of his tongue more intensely. Still, she sucks and strokes his cock, looking back periodically and whispering passionately, Baby, don’t stop. Please, don’t fucking stop. Until there is uncontrollable shaking and unforgettable oral orgasms from marathon love making, he will not.
The voice of a woman’s euphoria is a thing of beauty; when she says, make love to me, she means it with deep sincerity. Her aura is wonderful — she should be carefully handled like a flower placed in water delicately. The exploration of her mind and body is a fascinating journey. Her whispers are deep passion; her kiss, pure ecstasy.
The craving of the flesh will not rest until ecstasy is let out through sincere screams and deep breaths. Every inch of pleasure is savored; every downward thrust and upward motion leading to a transcendent like explosive culmination. Pleasure receptors hold onto every sensual sensation. The ride is slow so girth and length can be more profoundly felt. Yes, the ride is slow, but the intimacy is deeper, and the euphoria is more intense.