LoveAngel goes to the City of Lights!

What else would happen when the LoveAngel rides a plane to the city of lights but have the most indulgent and delightfully sex-charged chariot of Eros escort her? My entire body illuminated and played by the strings of Cupid's harp, my entire body became an instrument of hummingbird bliss. 

What am I if I am not a creature of Love? Who am I if not to be Aphrodite; a receptive encasing for Him; to feel his hand in mine, butterflies in my stomach, a force so strong it shakes me to the core?  The entirety of His heart is holding me, so what am I but a chalice of the infinite potential of His power? 

Two people, destined to meet, are placed side-by-side on a Trans-Atlantic plane ride to a city that has been calling me home for over 5 years, and finally my soul has listened. After talking about our lives, and where we are from, I sense a deeper urging inside of him... and when he reached out his hand, I accepted it. 

The masculine; I am ever amazed and reverent towards He. The witness behind his eyes brings forth my beauty, the heat in his groins melts my delicate sheath, I become butter, all defenses have dissolved; the love from his heart has pierced all crevices, some unknown even to me. 

I am Woman but less than half of what I am then when I'm without Him--my refectory counterpart which shows me all the aspects and possibilities of myself, and they are infinite.

Each human's sexual imprint is a super-imposed snowflake of electrical impulses, no one can ever be the same as the last, and the thrill of each new lover in my soul lights up new neural highways, connecting me with the super nova of space. When we are engaged into this erotic frequency, we are suspended between the dimensions,  transcending all. We are fully awake and alive, pulsating with the energy of creation itself. 

When he touched me I felt like his fingertips brought fractal universes onto my nipples, spinning a new power of light into me. I became completely entranced, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, resting on his shoulder, feeling his lips one millimeter away from mine, breathing heat into my spine. 

Our palms met, after an hour or two of conversation on the plane. A stranger turned familiar in one second flat. Not all the words in the English dictionary could describe or replace or encompass the blueprint of Him on my soul. He touched me, all of me, a fire that ignited in my womb and burned into my heart, a Symbol of perfection, of perfect peace, an imprint that said,

  

"You are safe. You can relax now. I am here for you and will never let you go."

His Love melted my entire being. My whole body became orgasmic. I could feel the pulsation pumping through his veins, his spine, his groins. Fantasies start rolling over in my head; I want to kiss him, I want to feel his wetness on my tongue, I want to reach down into his pants and just hold his cock, to feel the texture of it on my palms. I want him. 

The airline stewardesses walk by and asks if we need any tea, coffee or water... People are still shuffling in their seats, and  the cabin lights are still on. I don't want anything but to fully merge with him.. which Airline is this again?? Oh Air France doesn't accommodate those who want to join the mile high club. 

The two lovers on Row 29 were anxiously awaiting for the cabin to calm, the stewardesses to disappear, the lights to dim, and the passion between us to engulfe our soul. 

"I want you. But in a soft melting kind of way...." He whispers into my ear. Eric is in his early to mid-fifties, probably married, and we have no chance of making anything of this connection in the real world. 

He pulls me even closer into him, his chest pounding, his heart an offering to my inner softness. Finally I turn my head, my lips calling towards mine, our tongues meeting for the first time, one of those first kisses that gives you chills... A Kiss of the Soul, that offers the full depth of that person, their emotional imprint, a chemical reaction more than just hormones in my body ... Love is not just some chemical produced in the body ... It is the matrix that births us. 

This sensational energy lasts for a couple hours while we are sinking into our seats, flying over the Atlantic Ocean awaiting our final destination from Seattle. I was visiting my mother, and he had just recently moved to Seattle, and is an avid boater, needing to be by the water. His oceanic pulse filled the waterways of my veins. 

I know I have to sleep or I'll be toast when I arrive to France, so I take a sleeping pill and cover my eyes and release into slumber into his arms. He holds me, for thousands of miles until we touch down, and made my trans-Atlantic flight seem like a short hop into a new dimension of Palatial Grandeur.

The spell ended there, and we had to act cordial de-boarding the plane, groggy, and mostly sleepless. We walked through the airport together, finding our bags and going through customs.... I found my driver outside, and my new found air-panes crush departed ways, but our hearts will always remember. 

But my Parisian adventure have just begun.... 

A Fairy Vampire is Seduced by the DANDY ... A Tale of Astral-Gasms

Rarely does one seduce me.. yet dare I say I still have the upper hand. He contains and reflects little remnants of the magic that I had once shared with Bunny...the nuances in his accent, the way that his jewelry flashes when he flicks his wrist, the mischievous charm behind his smile. Yet there's a sincerity, a delicate and subtle innocence to the Dandy, like a boy who you chase around on the playground because you like him. Running and giggling on the playground, flashing your eyes, but dare not either of you confess your secret liking. He is that one, that gets my butterfly wings fluttering; for he sees an alternate color within me, he sees my most saturated self.

Some men get my pastels, my more muted grays, or a faded version of myself. Some cannot perceive the full spectrum that I am; they're color blind to my Majesty. Some men are lucky enough to get my deep velvet red, my pink splendor, and flirtatious yellow. But it's those that get into my imagination, whom are revealed the invisible nuances of my personality.

The lamp that shines forth from his eyes brings out my luminescence, the kind that flickers and changes every time he peers into me. With every glance another pathway is revealed, another opening, another gateway presents itself. His observant mind shines forth this laser of perception into me, and I prismatically illuminate a fickle magic that only shines with his perception. 

To say that he showed up at the right place at the right time is an understatement. His stance, firm but not cocky, dressed in black leather, next to my ex, the Bunny, they look like two European renegades. 

They're laughing at me, and flash a charming deviance, for I had just been heavily flirting with a Greek God at the Halloween masquerade party my friends were putting on in Hollywood. I had the most physically perfect specimen in front of me, and we were getting hot and heavy, until I turn around, and Bunny is there, laughing because he found me gyrating all over this man in my pink sequin dress, huge feather headdress complete with a riding crop. Properly dressed as a Fairy Vampire Domme, I arose from my meaty prey on the couch, and greeted the Dandy newcomer.

Although I was rudely interrupted by Bunny who pulled me out of this juicy make out session, I quickly ditched the most physically perfect man of muscle I think I have ever touched, and sprung into Bunny's arms to say hello. That's just what you do for old friends.

Timing is absolutely everything when you meet a potential lover...if they come into your life too early, the connection hasn't matured, the magnetism is dull, and the attraction is just a curiosity. When you meet someone too late, you see parts of their past which haunt them, and you're forever chasing a fleeting moment, or perhaps the wine has turned to vinegar and every sip of them is sour.

The Dandy entered my vortex at just the right time. The air in LA had just changed, it became more crisp, reflecting the Autumn season, for it was almost Halloween, where the gouls come out at night to meet the Fairy Domme Vampires.

I dare to try to name him, because his true name is so Iconic, soulful, and rare. In Hebrew it means the Island of Palms... but the air in him is much more rare than the oceanic oxygen.

He's a fashion designer from Berlin, and obviously dresses himself, which is the most seductive thing about him, and he does it very well. In my eyes, a man can kill a woman when dapperly outfitted. He uses sharp tailored lines, dark colors and angular collars as his bate to draw me in; an ode to Victorian Vampires and the sexy deviants of the night, his understated style says so much more than a bold color or flashy garnish. He chooses decorative simplicity, an art form that is difficult to master... and masterful he is.

Apparently he fits my stereotypical weakness; a sexy man from Europe who is well dressed, well educated and well-traveled, and speaking a few languages doesn't hurt. 

We flirt a little bit throughout the night, and get cozy at the after party.  We talk and giggle and lightly flirt, but I don't think anything of it.

I get a spur of the moment inspiration to run out of this apartment at 4am and chase the approaching Sun; it's near dawn and I want to feel the Sun penetrating me. I have to silence my mind that used to think that I wouldn't survive the next day if I stayed up to watch the sunrise, but now I have a newfound energy and charge from these sacred and rare moments. We gather a few disco-cops, puppies, and werewolves and leave the after-party so that we can get the most epic view over Los Angeles. These are the hills that I would be moving to in one short week's time, and didn't even realize it yet. These are the hills where I fell in and out of love with Bunny. These are the hills where I will start and launch my dreams and musings.

 This is the beginning of a new era, a new opening, a new creation phase for me. I am beginning to step into my true power as a woman. 

He, the Dandy, sits back as a quiet witness; sweetly reflecting my magic, and the rising of the sun. No words, just a few smiles and notions of his arm brushing mine, his body pressed up against me for our morning photographs, truly a deviant innocence about him.

After we snuffed the clouds and become rainbows and mooned the sun (yes it's possible) we hiked down the hill with our colorful costumed friends, and the hikers from the morning cross our paths. The absurdity of the moment is palpable, and I cannot help but laugh at them, and them at us. There is shared absurdity; them for living perceivably normal lives. And for us; well my friends and I aren't cut from sterile white bread, and don't fit into anyone's box. We stand out to say the least!

We return to the car, and I have to take the new posse home; Bunny, who's passing out in the back seat, and has since completely lost his mind; and my new Dandy is in the front seat, who is still somewhat cognitively aware. His hand, gently brushing against mine, suggests the pull closer to him. It's strange to have my exe's friend flirt with me right in front of him. On some level I justify it because I had just told Bunny that I could never be romantic with him ever again. And no we can't "make love." I have finally rejected him for the last and final time. Saying no has been feeling really good lately.

Yes that Bunny. The Bunny that I thought I would always love, always adore, always cherish... the magical love that I could never kill, that haunted me obsessively , that I ached for, and would do anything to have. And now, here he is in front of me, telling me he wants to make love to me (funny words coming from him now,) and I have absolutely zero attraction for him anymore. None. So I had to break it down to Bunny that night;

"Ummmm soooooo I can't really make love to you because I killed you. You're dead to me. I can't be with you, and you can't be with me. I'm sorry this is what I had to do to protect myself from ever being hurt by you again."

Bunny's eyes swell up in tears, and some of the pain hits him. Perhaps he always thought that I would be there for him, in that way, that he could come around every 6 months then leave again. I'm sure he has a girlfriend at home and 5 other girls he's lying to. I just refuse to be one of them ever again.

I let Bunny have his reaction, he'll come around, he always does. I just sink back into my Dandy, trying to explain the complexity of the Bunny and I, and it's impossible to state. The important thing is it's over.

I drop Bunny off at his house that morning, and the Dandy stays with me. We drive him to Beverly Hills, in a nice tucked away location in the hills. I can tell that he wants me to go upstairs with him, badly. A part of me wants to as well. But what kind of man goes after his best friend's ex, right under his nose... ugh. I just couldn't bare it, to sleep with him and come off as hurtful. I take his hands, he leans in and kisses me.

It's a good-bye kiss. The lingering ones that don't want to end... but it does and he leaves the car. I just sit there for a while, looking at my phone probably, not in any rush to leave.
When I finally turn around, I look up and those eyes are still penetrating me, staring into me and calling me closer to his magnetic center. He's standing on the stair case looking at me, hovering into me, a gaze that says everything.

I stop and roll down the window, delighted in his gesture. But alas I say goodbye for the final time that night (err morning), and drive off into the Sunny LA day.

A week passes before we can meet again. In the duration of one week's time, I view a house in the Hollywood Hills, love it, sign the lease, and move in that week. I thought I would be set up by Wednesday, and which was when I invited the Dandy to come over and enjoy my new pad in the hills. It just so happens to be a near full moon that night, and we watch the beautiful luna blanca above our heads, as I joke about calling in my soul mate on the full-moon.

I tell him I would rather have a Sugar Daddy than a soul-mate, and that I'm not calling in a relationship right now. Heh.. as if I get to decide my future...

The majestic entrance, gardens, green space, outdoor fountains and open air seduce us in the night.

We share a few smokes outside, I'm completely crashed out from the move, and he relaxes with me. I don't remember him being nervous before, but it takes a few moments for us to feel comfortable with one another, and remember the ease and comfort of each other.

I take him downstairs into what will be my future Dakini dungeon, and sit him on the couch, the only piece of furniture there. I cuddle up to his small frame, and my ass hovers all the way up to his face. I explain about my sensual sensitivities, how I can have different kinds of orgasms, like a laugh gasm, taste gasm, or even an astral gasm.

"What's and Astral Gasm?" He asks unknowingly and curious.

"You've never had an Astral Gasm?" I reply surprised, I just think it's common knowledge now, but I guess not everyone thinks sex is the last frontier.

"Hmmm maybe if you're lucky you'll have an Astral Gasm with me sometime."

We continue the flirtation, with my ass still near his face, my body feels at least twice the size of his, but he owns my body well, and allows me to melt into him. I'm not shy about my curves, and flaunt them for his touch to access. He grabs my flesh firmly and squeezes the skin around my waste, my hips, my thighs, and my back. He tugs at it, and I can tell they're love tugs on my love handles. Just when I thought I needed to loose a little weight, this one affirms that I don't, and he revels in my womanly tissue.

We make out a little while longer on the couch, before I want to take him upstairs so I can lie down.

I don't really remember what we did first, I just remember his energy being translucent, electrical light...I remember the lustrous expansiveness I had when I was with him... I remember the energy shooting out the crown of his head when he came.

Somehow I got the clothing designer to take off all his clothes, and leave his outside persona at the door. Now I just had him, his bare white flesh dressed on a thin frame, and no more Dandy qualities to produce smoke and mirrors. Just our two naked bodies making contact in the sheets, just my mouth against his, his hands on me, our flesh is our only protection now against the darkness of the night.

His delicate features are somewhat effeminate, and the skin on his cock is something unlike I have ever experienced. I suppose that is saying a lot for a sensualist who touches a lot of cock. It is another world of sensory wonder, and I begin to get lost in it.

At first glance, it's nothing special, not particularly large or bulging, but it has a different quality to it, a silky sensitivity that I couldn't get enough of. I enjoy having cock in my mouth, taking it in and teasing it for a long time. I think it builds the arousal in both partners. I know what most cock feels like in my mouth and I enjoy it a lot.. but this... this.. was.. extraordinary. I felt like I had this magical sensory computer communication system between my mouth and his most delicate skin; every inflection of my tongue sent shivers through his whole body, and I gain more and more of a turn on by relishing in this power of seduction. I take delight in all the ways in which I danced on his skin, and his skin was filling the saliva on my palette, making my whole being entirely, uncontrollably ecstatic, and even more excited by his turn on.

There is nothing that I admire more then when a man gets into a deep state of sensual surrender, where his body turns into a snake's body of undulating rhythmic bliss, and their moans reward my efforts. The moon is full that night, and highlights euphoria upon his face, and smoothed head. Whenever I look up from this cock worship, he is tilting his head back with his eyes pulling upwards, he can't control the moaning and grinding ecstasy which is pulsating through his body, and even a foot or two outside of him. There is electricity in the air, and the electrons keep dancing through our neurons...firing quicksilver orgasms everywhere. I fucking work him. I work him up hard.

The tension builds in his groins, his eyes rolling back in his head, his moans growing, his contractions getting larger...my mouth sucking even more fervently, I am screaming louder, I am a turned on hot mess, about to be blessed in his come. I can barely keep him on the bed from the orgasm, screaming moaning.. writhing ecstasy of a man. Our crowns somehow travel outside the confines of the room, and confirm our connection to something outside of ourselves. This sexploration opened up a portal of cosmic potential within us, and deep affirmative bliss inside of our beings.

I told him about Astral gasms a few hours earlier, and now I am confident that I don't have to explain the difference of how it feels between a regular orgasm. Now he knows by experience how to be completley blown open both physically and spiritually by an orgasm.

We lay there covered in come, dead, killed by the Devil's Seduction, except the Angels are singing in the heavens, the fairies are writhing in euphoria. and the Vampires have awoken in the night. The Fairy Vamp has found a Deviant Dandy, and the Dandy caught an LA Fairy by her wings.

Before he leaves, I ask him to tell me a bedtime story, and he improvises a tale of me in my first days in Paris... a dream that I have had for 6 years and haven't gone... a dream that haunts my soul.

I fall asleep to the sound of his Dandy voice, his German-Israeli whatever the fuck European accent, describing to me in detail, what I am to do once I touch down in the City of Lights. Parisian bedtime stories are a wet dream come true; and his Dandy qualities come out in is loving detail of my Parisian adventures. He tells me about how I have to order a croissant and espresso at the same cafe 3 days in a row so they get to know me there. I can't keep switching cafes. He tours me around the city, the day time, the nighttime, the art and architecture until my eyes gently close, and I fall asleep having toured Paris in my mind and he leaves me to my slumber. The Dandy has a fashion meeting to go to with some Goth Rocker that desires his threads in LA.

When my mind drifts off, I just release into the Dandy's gaze, his simple smile, a caress on the face, the kind that makes me feel so sweetly protected, like a child, and that there's no more effort to be had. My only job is complete surrender back into the night.

He shares his simple adoration and attention with a caress to make a woman swoon.

This Fairy Vamp has many games of seduction until she is caught in her own game of cat and mouse, and I am unknowingly caught; I have just been seduced by this man who's leaving back to Europe in a week that left me with Parisian lullabies. I am rarely seduced to this extent by a man... and dare I say I hope I still have the upper hand. 

Viking... The Conqueror Forms a Divide

Fireworks explode outside my window in a brigade of red and white. Rocket grenade sparklers hurl flame in the air; my heart is a burning ember, shooting in different directions, multiplying my discourse.

I text Mariano as I lay next to HIM, the man I just made love with. It’s odd to be with two alpha males, and only the Viking knows that I am still in relationship with another.

I am deduced to heated burning passion, His come still on my skin, His heated body lay a-drape across my sheets, and I don't know if he is worthy yet of my love but I cannot resist when he stares straight into my eyes and orders me to sit on his cock.

It's been a strange week, one of heated passion in numerous directions, and I don't know which one is the truth.

While Mariano and I grow closer together emotionally and physically, I know in my heart that I cannot commit to him fully, and that ultimately we want different things; him a family, and I …. Haven’t decided what it is that I want yet.  So here I am in bed with another man, who literally tweaked every kinky vice in my body, something that Mariano and I don’t often visit.

In my eyes He much resembles a Viking and his name means To Conquer. And without knowing what I was stepping into that fateful day, he conquered me.

His pheromones fill the room, his naked body is in rest now, his long hair covering his face, his breath is slow and even, I rarely get to witness such a man in a state of complete and utter peace. Every time I take an inhalation I get lost in his manly scent, I could literally come just from his smell alone.

We 'met' through a short and brief email exchange on a dating site and I liked his name, the Viking, and gave him my phone number, without even viewing his profile. A few days later I received a text.

We missed each other a few times, but eventually caught a few conversations on the phone. I do most of the talking, as I'm busy and excited about life. A few schedule misses, and we finally find a day to meet.

"I'm free today, want to go to the beach?" he asks me randomly and perfectly.

"Yes actually meet me here in 10 minutes" I reply, without thinking.

I live on the beach so it's convenient.

He arrives at my doorstep in a black T-shirt, backpack and ray ban shades. His long brown hair frames his face, and he lays a quick cold kiss on me.

I've already written him off in my head, but oblige to the beach day, and try to open myself to the situation, and see him with new eyes. For some reason his voice doesn't fit the rest of his body and it throws me off.

We walk out onto the sand, and I can feel him checking out my ass. He's overtly sexual and compliments my form, and I wish to shine my body upon him more because of the complements. I take off my tank top and shorts, and he lays down a nice blue Pendleton beach blanket and he now gains 10 style points.

We chat for a few, and he decides to jump in the water first. I allow my burnt out adrenals to rest a bit longer, and await his return. He comes and drips cold water off of his 6'2" frame, his skin loose off his belly and arms from neglecting the gym. But I like large men so it works for me.

The playfulness sets in and he finds my opening. His touch is careful and calculated; like he's opening a time bomb, which is my future orgasm but if he doesn't get the exact combo right, it won't go off. He plays me and I am playable. Each time his large and masculine hands lay upon me, I feel like a rose flower turning open another petal, towards the light of the Sun. Each caress allows his heat penetrates deeper, and I descend past the point of no return. I'm helpless now, I think, having no resistance to his will, his hands find themselves closer to my sacred spot, reaching around my ass and pulling my cheeks open, almost dipping into my wet spot. I allow this to happen for a few moments, and make sure no one is peering into our private show.

His other hand, which I have to say is one of the most comforting hands I have ever felt, is nestling my neck, a cradle for my soul to rest. Finally, I feel this otherworldly support, this man holding me, but to me he is more like a Greek god of the sky who's descended down from Heaven to break me open, shedding light in all directions, a supernova explosion awaiting his induced power.

Tenderly looking into my eyes, swiping the hair out of my face, his tongue comes closer to mine, and our wetness dances together. His beard goes mostly unnoticeable, and so does the rest of the beach, and it's just me, and his body and soul atop of me and I become his Idol of erotic worship.

His loving attention turns me into jelly multiple times, where he fills me up so hard with his lust that the swoon sends me spiraling out into space, and I just let go and close my eyes and smile, flying through indescribable bliss, I am now completely his. He continues this love dance, tenderly taking my fingers into his mouth, next my wrist, my forearm, all the way up to the belly of my arm, arousing unknown features of my being. Not leaving a single place unscathed, he now my Master, and I, his prisoner of complete surrender.

This could have gone on for hours or minutes, but eventually temptation pulls us up off the sand, making our way back to my apartment, I lay a sheet down on my bed to avoid sand infestation. Now my naked body is his canvas of artistic mastery. I got his full self that day, and he mine, a moment of timeless perfection. Him now a loose canon, a glory moment of culmination of everything he has gathered about a woman and desire.

His mouth, perfect in that moment, merged with my Bermuda Triangle and he became engulfed in my waters, swimming, hardly coming up for air, not minding that he is drowning into me. From my ass to my entrance, working my clit diligently as if his life depended on it. Again I am just a woman, just the fury of creationism, merely the one who creates and destroys worlds.  I feel like I am swallowing and birthing him simultaneously. He, the God of Light in my eyes, but also of corruption, splits me open. Never allowing my eyes to close to solely enjoy my pleasure, he beckons my attention;

"Look at me," he whispers into my soul, yet I know I will be punished if I don't. His natural dominance is in full control of the situation and he makes sure I know that his hand is swift and painful.

My eyes find his, steady, his hazel gaze outlined by a hard brow line, he doesn't let me waver.

"That's my girl. That's it. There it is," he says as his hands find their way into my G-spot, then deeper, faster, harder more. Until I am screaming, gripping the sheets, vibrating in desperate release, he pulls out suddenly, leaving me a mess of cries and moans of yearning, a mini orgasm of my entire body upon the recently created negative space.

His other hand is upon my jawline, pulling my mouth open as he drips is saliva into my open and willing orifice. He's Domming me, in charge of every move, drip, luster and fuck. I don't know how much longer I can wait for his cock, and thankfully relief comes, which is even more intense, hardly an antidote for the rest of his poison.

If this is death, then kill me. If I died by his hand that day, by cock, spit or come, I am a willing submissive slut to his wrath, his fury pounding inside of me, his force like Lightning from the sky, each rumble of thunder inside of me even shakes the walls. I witness him as godly vibrations emanating into my eyes, and through me, back into him. The most eloquent and violent dance of love, messy sweat and come dripping everywhere. Never quite letting go of his new prey, he makes sure every angle is pounded, the meat of my flesh made tender and meek to his strength. Tenderness evens out his force, mostly.

When he's had his take, he pulls his cock out, and finishes on me, marking his new prize, the Conqueror has won this time.  My favorite elixir of come upon my chest, face and pussy, I am more than delighted to wave my flag of defeat. I want to be filled with his liquid, and would if I didn't risk creating another being. He tastes sweet like maple syrup, mixed with the musky sweat of his pheromones, and I gratefully lay submerged in this perfect moment.

The fireworks subside outside my window, and the discord of knowing that I have slept with another man, and need to potentially tell the man that I’m currently with makes my heart sink. Or I could just break up with Mariano, which would honestly be easier. Let freedom (for kinky sex) ring.

Who Needs Drugs when You've Got Love?

I've been keeping the beginning, middle and all of the juicy details of my current relationship a secret, as to launch all of my new material on a re-modeled site. But just to keep you interested and intrigued as to the quality of my time spent in bed... let's say this recent journey with hubby sauce has been extremely Euphorically fulfilling... LoveAngel launch cumming soon...

And from my freshly written mementos this morning...

Layers of my heart start to unwind. I am calmed by Mariano’s arrival last night, and didn’t inform him of my aching explosion of tears from the missing Bunny. I just told him that I was tender, and requested his softness, and he agreed that he could be soft.

While writing last night I began to doubt our love… maybe it’s not the best for me right now, maybe we should just cut our losses and move on as to not complicate our lives. Then he fully shows up for me like he did last night and I become the most soft, feminine and erotic part of myself with him, and he made love to me with his whole heart, and I cannot possibly deny our growing connection.

We lie upon my bed, and just shoot shit. Laughing, tickling each other and rolling around, he begins to lift my spirits. Chatting until midnight, we cuddle in bed, and I’m not particularly turned on, thinking we are just going to hold each other and rest.

And then there was the kiss goodnight.

I have been fantasizing about his lips for hours, of how I can feel his whole soul devouring me through his mouth, how this rush of chemicals floods my brain and body when his tongue swishes around inside of me. His fingers find the tender spot on my clit, and he begins to work me in the most delicately ferocious way. My moans grow with my wetness; I’m almost fully orgasmic just from his touch, his tongue in my mouth my groins are writhing around, an undulating dance of utter and complete euphoria. This is when I’m possessed by his love, a fully expressed vibration of Eros, I am uncontrollable desire, my pulsations are so heavy, my moans a screaming cry for sweet release, and finally I cannot take the intensity any longer.

I move his hand from the trigger, and take a breath to steady myself. The fire is an intense burning; I literally was going to burst open.  We wait a few moments, until he works the tip of his scepter into me, slowly at first; I try to find a way to stretch open to allow his fullness into me. He enters like a hot knife slicing the most delicious German Chocolate cake into me; our eyes roll in the back of our head and what happens next is not under either of our control.

Hips grinding sideways, he finds a deeper crevice inside of me; I wonder if this is the cervical pleasure I read about, about an orgasm that build from deep inside the womb. My entire insides are a shimmering vulva of awareness; he spreads light upon my darkness.

Something begins to happen to me now and I can feel my vaginal wall as one orifice, not just experiencing pin-pointed pleasure, but a whole mouth of bliss that opens and closes around his cock.

“I want to feel your cum all over me.” I know these words will  send him over the edge, he’s unable to retain his seed for much longer and works up his rhythm deep inside until he pulls out and showers his juice, the drops hitting my belly, dripping down the opening of my secret cave, all the way down upon my openings.

I’m covered in his wetness and lick my hands as to relish in his nectar.

He doesn’t stop, knowing I have more in me, he reaches around with his hands after his mind-numbing convulsions stop, and works me even deeper, my internal lips squeezing and yoking the pressure of his fingers into my own explosion of delight.

He repeats to me several times that he doesn’t need to ingest anything to produce euphoria in his body.

“Who needs drugs when they’ve got the Love Angel?”