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?”

Double Cherry Pie with Disco Lemonade

Knight Rider

We met at my birthday party a year and a half ago, and he was the third photographer that was filming the absolute insanity of my Tribal Gangsta themed event. I invited my most eccentric and beloved friends, an airbrush artist, a costume designer, mixed with fairy dust and a film real, and hAhA Vision has come to life.  It was one of the more epic moments to date; it was the beginning of a new Era in My Life, so many synchronicities woven into this one moment.

I was dressed in Queen's attire; a crown, a $1500 ruffled pink dress made by my favorite Faery and all of my closest friends were there to celebrate me, all with a film crew to capture the phantasmagorical moments.

I recall my Bunny walking into the insanity, right into my room, and he catches me at an odd moment in my room. I am dressed to the nines in High Queen Attire; and in his Croatian accent, he pours out his first words of adoration towards me. We kissed later that night, an elongated good-bye... but this story is not about the Bunny.

This story is about a different one, an unexplored one, the dark and quiet one, who was completely dumbstruck by me. I could say that he was awestruck, but that does not describe the way he expressed himself towards me; he was literally DUMBSTRUCK by me. So much so that I wrote him off as WEIRD.

I was dating another boy while simultaneously falling in love with the Bunny, so I had my priorities full.  I was making love to my Guatemalan later in the night, and He, the Knight Rider kept ending up in my bedroom, magically... always lost or looking for something, And wanting in on the action. It just wasn't the right time or place for a threesome ... So I kept having to hush him our of my room!

But apparently he couldn't keep away, for I was his DREAMGIRL.

Fast forward a YEAR AND A HALF;

We just recently bumped into each other by rubbing elbows at a work party; I saw him out of the corner of my eye, and we exchanged numbers so we can keep in touch about the new projects we are working on.

First we texted back and forth mostly in a polite way, we were both traveling for the holidays and keeping in touch.

Then I started to send him pictures from New Year's Eve after he gave me a New Year's wish. And his responses have since inspired a complete turn around and utter turn-on by his soon to be Sex Queen.

I sent him a group photo of my girlfriends and I at midnight, fireworks in the background.

"Simply gorgeous! Just redefining beauty!!!! Simple the best thing about 2014!"

What is the best thing about 2014?

"You are! Stand alone. Hands down"

Since I got such amazing praise I continue to send him racier photos.

"You are the model the gods used to define what beautiful and sexy is!"

Well yes... Of course... I wake up feeling like a Greek Goddess every morning.

The next flirtatious photo text reveals.... My perfect breasts, forming a lovely circle of flesh.

"My world has just been flipped upside down. You are literally so perfect in every way. It's not even funny."

Of course I keep the pics coming if that is the response I am receiving from a nipple.

"oMFuckingGod!! I think I just saw heaven.

You are seriously gorgeous.

The hottest woman I know

I feel like a little boy looking at my Fantasy girl

You redefine beauty."

Well perhaps giving someone a second chance is a good idea after-all.. dumbstruck can turn into pure awe, right?


The following night we engage in a marvelous sexting war where I get my new Knight to come in his pants during an investment dinner.
 Yeah you heard me. I made him so turned on and flush; his Fantasy Girl wish come true that he CAME IN HIS PANTS.

"Buona notte Bella. Ci vediamo a domani-"

He says to me in Italian because he thinks I'm going to bed. Apparently not the case.

"I'm at an investor dinner right now and all I can think about is my double cherry pie"

IE, Code word for my pussy.

"I would spoon feed you pie, every bite off of my body." I tease, elongating the fantasy.

"My cock is throbbing between my legs "

I can't resist my victim, I know he is suffering and turned on and in a public place with no relief soon to be found.

"What I would do to crawl under that table ...and pull down your pants ever so slightly and start licking your belly and slip my tongue lower and lower down...,"  I tease my perfect prey.

"Come on, don't do this, not now."

Now I know he's really suffering; he's becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"And I would take your cock completely into my mouth and make you throb in the back of my throat until you cum right in front of your investors."

Might as well finish the job, right?

"You had to do this ....you just had to.  I think I just chummed in my pants"

"I would lick that too," I reply mischievously; a good kitty always licks up her milk.

"I can't stand up right now ...I'm gonna have to spank you for this."

"Then I would bend my ass over in front of you to hide your hard cock."

"I think I'm still cummin, yeah I am. Never Had that Happen. Yeah, I'm gonna punish you for this." I am so satisfied by this.

"I would let you drip the last drop of your cum all over my gorgeous ass, down the crack dripping all the way to my pussy so I can feel your hot cum inside of me.
I guess my Ass is going to be pink too if you have anything to do with it"

"Knight Rider is going to make that ass hot pink. And I'm gunna let my cum drip all over it," the pain is hurting him more than me.

"Every one is looking at me funny asking why I'm so flush right now...Naughty girl.
I'm going to have to tell them my dream girl sent me naughty pix of her and told me she would suck me off under the table right now...And let me drip my cum all over her ass."

Yup that will get your investors to definitely become a part of your project!!

"I love that I'm your dream girl :) "

"You have no idea how much of a dream girl you are to me," he says with conviction, these are words that will never get old to me.

Then he says to me last night,

"Oh you're gonna be flush for a month maybe longer"

My Italian says to me over our sexting

"I feel like a little boy looking at my Fantasy girl."

"You're like double cherry pie with disco lemonade. Oh, And I'm gonna take my time with my double cherry pie. I'm gonna lick and suck that sweetness all night long...."

I fall asleep satisfied, that I made my Knight Rider so turned on that..

HE CAME IN HIS PANTS!! Investors here we come with my phone sexting launch idea!


The next day I ask him what his actual ethnic background is. As you know I rarely go with anyone strictly caucasian.

"I'm half Italian, half Spanish," says my Knight rider after hours of pouring compliments into me all day from the sexy pics I sent him,

"When I say dream girl I'm not lying....there have been fantasies about you since we first met...so last night was a very, how can I say, interesting time."

He continues, "As for punishment, that's gonna include some rope, a whip, a paddle, candles, music, hot wax, and a ball gag,..oh and a blind fold.. I'll let you fill in the blanks"

These flirts continue as I inch my way back to California from my family vacation in Florida. I ride the plane back now, knowing that my body is closer to this undeniable heat, this passion that has build up inside him, and ignited my flames. I'm not sure what will come from this Spanish Italian Director; perhaps a co-creation of flesh and sweat that will drive our fantasies to be made on film. He has so many bonus points going for him right now; he's intellectual, a businessman, goal-oriented and into running and mediating. So far so good...oh and he speaks Italian and knows exactly how to seduce me.

I better not be let down later tonight when I see him. This Knight Rider better deliver on his talk.. all the ball gags, ropes and paddles better not be a bluff... and I worry if I will actually live up to his DreamGirl Expectations.

The Last Chapter With the Dark Prince

Communication between my Prince and I became more and more troubled as time went on.

I found myself wanting different things than what he could give me, and he just would never be the type of man that I truly wanted; a go-getter, fierce, & cut throat ambitious as fuck businessman.

He could dedicate all of his time and energy to working out, but wouldn't dedicate the same ferociousness to getting his life back on track.

His daily habits and lack of foresight was just not attractive to me and I lost any last shreds of respect that I once had. You can imagine how this would reflect in our relationship; not well. 

The breaker for me was his inability to go to a vital business conference with me, a once in a lifetime opportunity I felt. He had to consult with his Jewish family, because he had Shabbat that day, and every Saturday for that matter, and couldn't make the imperative decision to change his life (in my view) for the better, and would rather stay at home, living with his AHEM JEWISH MOTHER. 

That was the weekend that we parted, officially, pretty much forever. 

We exchanged a few more PUSH AND PULL communications, him making plans with me, ignoring my calls and planning over what we had planned because I didn't answer one phone call.. just really immature actions really. We all have wounds to heal and his were coming up, so were mine, and they were nicely displayed on a clear piece of glass for us to view, scrutinize and analyze. Neither one of us had the proper tools or the willpower to heal the rift that was splitting us.

After that he cut off all communication from me which had been REALLY hard, especially when someone tells you that they love and care for you so deeply, that they will always be there for you, and then in one magic moment, POOF they are nowhere to be found, and want nothing to do with you.

I most definitely hurt his pride, but it is all a representation of me testing his supposed weaknesses, an action I regret. It doesn't do any good to test your lover; but it was my way of acting out in the relationship because in the long run I knew he wasn't right for me. 

So my Prince and I would do what any young and loving couple would do that are completely head over heels for each other sexually, and can't function in the REAL WORLD; cut our losses and walk the other way.

The depression hit me hard, almost immediately; where my chest felt like I hit a brick wall going 1,000 miles an hour and now I'm left with the impact; as if love is a locomotive with a certain velocity and momentum, and suddenly it all comes to a screeching halt and you're left to pick up the debree  of an unplanned stop at Heartbreak, USA.

I felt like I crashed, and I was burned, despite this being the desired outcome that we both needed.

I saw HIM, the REAL HIM, one last time; the sweet Prince, the spirit of his name forever etched inside my heart from the first time we made love. I saw him; the affectionate, endlessly loving and soft man that loved me so perfectly.

After our final decision to no longer be a unit of functional love, we met at the health food store in mid-city where we often ate. I had to see him. The aching in my chest needed some form of relief, and he was the only remedy. I met him outside, and he sat on the table while talking to my friend who we ran into at the same time. I sat down and lay my head in his lap, a sweet relief, a sip of water when I felt like i was in a dying desert of wallowing shock.

He provided last minute solace, and we eventually made our way inside and got our food.

I broke into tears as I sipped my soup when he told me he couldn't go home with me tonight. The burning desire in my soul to HAVE him one last time was so immense I could barely sit next to him. The fire of the heart was burning brighter than ever. I seem so tough until I can't have what I truly most want, after my harsh exterior has faded away, I am but an empty shell of soft hope.

My emotions were too much for him to handle in a public place so we sat in my car in the parking lot, looking into each other's eyes lovingly, him still pouring his immaculate heart into mine, while speaking the words that I didn't want to hear. 

Even his breath was a seduction to me; the air that left his lips was somehow holy and infused with God's grace; his words hit every fiber of my being. I've truly never felt something this magical in a man's breath. It was too late to worship, I had forsaken him. 

His hand merely brushed my lap and my loins were aflame in debilitating desire. I LITERALLY couldn't move until I had him, all of him, completely merged with him. His mouth met mine, his soul kissing my soul, his saliva like the sweetest nectar I've ever had, we lingered in this moment until we both knew our desire was so intense that we needed to move somewhere where we could be alone. 

We snuck into his mother's house, knowing she wasn't home and shut the door to his room; the electricity had died off a little bit, and we undressed and rolled around in the sheets, embracing each other. But our hearts were too damaged at this point to really make love; we couldn't go there, but held each other in the last tendrils of love and care until I left. 

And that was the LAST time that I ever felt his most sweet, most dear intoxicating drunken love, which completely enraptured my soul.

I will never forget his words, spoken upon every time he saw me,

"Oh Lo'ren," said in Hebrew intonation, "Oh mi Amor, Mon Cheri...oh Motek." His French rolled off his sweet tongue just as much as his Hebrew, a seduction I will not soon replace. 

Weeks past with no communication, I'm guessing in order for him to truly let me go he needed a real clean break. And I also happened to tell him before Thanksgiving that if he couldn't make solid plans with me then I would make them with someone else.

Definite breaking point. 

Despite the silence between us, his closed heart ushering me out the door, I cannot help but think about all of our tender moments together; how much he worshipped me, how he made love to me with his entire being. I texted him on Christmas Day, my heart shining ever so brightly with the intention of forgiveness, of bringing our differences to the Light, and I was also filled with the aching of regret that somehow I was the cause of all of this; that this was all my fault; that I hurt him and I could never go back and experience this love that was so pure and tender.

Every moment that passes without him I feel a twinge of regret in my heart. I would think of him, his eyes, and the way he would look into me, pierce me with those espresso tinted eyes, and every fiber in my heart would punish me. 

"I only think of you warmly." I would tell him to see if his deadened pulse could be revived. 

"I'm not sure if you're upset with me, but I sincerely apologize and hope that you can forgive me."

His last response was 

"I'm not mad at you because you did nothing wrong. I have nothing to forgive you for, either. I just can't make plans with you, Sorry."

And that was that. He cant make plans with someone who likes to plan in advance, and follows through with them. Huh.. well yeah point well taken. 

But somehow there is still a voice that plays like a broken record,

"I know I failed him; I failed me, I failed us."

I took a completely innocent, loving, kind and generous man into an argumentative demeanor, always on defense to my offense. I was always testing his generosity of heart, his sincerity and his breaking point. 

I was seeing if and when he would take charge, how and why. 

He did in some ways... Sometimes just by getting pissed at me. 

Sometimes by rolling over in a childish fit because I wasn't giving him attention.  

But all of these things vanished when he kissed me, when he touched me, when he was inside me. My entire body a canvas for his soul, he painted me with his heart. 

I spat on his love, My God, My King. 

I forsaken him. 

I did not honor His Love. 

The depths of His Love and commitment. 

I did not strictly value Him. I placed confines and boundaries on his love,and we could not survive under these conditions. 

So he cut me out, he cut me off, he cut my heart out of his, served up my portion of beating flesh on my plate and somehow now I have to eat my own medicine of rejection, fear and anger. He said no more. 

And now all I can hear is the faded echo of this pulse, the withered flesh of my soul that will never be enlivened by his care and attention again. 

We made love one more time, but his love had already left from me; the book of him was closed, and these are the last words I write on the Dark Prince. 

I regret my last words to him.

I regret ever slaying his Name. 

My King, my Prince, My Love. 

I forever cherish him. 

And he, doesn't even speak my Name. 

The Dark Prince Claims His Princess

Love is like a force of nature; once you're stuck in the hurricane, the best you can do is ride out the storm. If you try to fight against the wind and rain, it can result in being heavily plummeted by sheets of water, slapping you in the face, heavily. 
His love is a force that is as strong as the water cascading down from Niagara Falls; I keep trying to resist the pull into his love and even pretend it's not happening, but this just increases the gravitational force. He keeps pouring into me, even stronger still and I have given up fighting this ridiculously lovely force, a feeling so great I don't need to take ecstasy to feel like I'm floating in a drug induced MDMA bubble. I really don't have a choice at this point; he has fallen too hard into me and now my job is to ride the waves and surrender to the flow of the water. It really is less painful than to fight against this beautiful creature of a man. 
A sheer week has passed since that fateful night I licked the cum off of his stomach and his love infiltrated my entire being. We melded together in one night and the rest of our time together has been a graceful yet sometimes challenging unfoldment of our hearts' desires. We wrote in our book of love, spending night after night in love-making fantasies, each poetic gesture and word from his lips that would even make Rumi delight in his grave. 
"Oh Lo'ren," He would say my name in Hebrew, scream in orgasmic pleasure, stare deeply into my eyes while he addressed me as His Queen, His Princess.
I would always answer, "Yes my King," showing devotion and respect.
"Oh mi amor, mon tressure, mon cheri..." eventually he would just switch his sweet words to French, adoring me in every way that he could. 
After a week together of spending the nights in love-making fantasies, which would put most romance novels to shame, each poetic movement and gesture would even make Rumi delight in his grave, we returned back to a lovely night on Venice Beach. 
This was a particularly special evening, the moon was hanging low on the horizon, half full with an orange glow as rustic as the fall leaves. The Prince exclaimed with Joy that this was a Jewish holiday where they said a certain prayer and made intentions for the coming year, and that it was particularly auspicious to make these wishes at this time. We were pulled by the ocean's gravity and seduction by the night sky to intertwine our forces with nature and exclaim our new wishes to the Sea. We planted ourselves on the soft sand, always cuddled close and sweetly upon one another's laps and he says with sweet conviction his wish from the universe; for True Love and for a Successful Mindset; we all have the capability to hustle this world into great fame and fortune, and most only WISH for it and don't have what it takes to drive that vision into being. We usually fail out of lack of trying to really accomplish our dreams. 
My wish is similar, although he came into my life so suddenly; I was not expecting a lover in my life so i'm still in half denial that he's here. Fully. With a full open heart ready to completely love me with all his being, in loyalty and devotion. Quite the opposite from what i've experience from The Bunny in the past. So when it's here and its REAL it's very surprising and difficult to take in and accept. 
We said our wishes to the moon, and I just couldn't help myself but to place my head on his belly, our mortal coils laying upon the sand of the Mother.  I started to lick his beautiful cock right there, underneath the moon's orange embrace, his eyes on me, my eyes turned slightly towards the beautiful and rich light of La Luna filling our souls with magic. I didn't want to get too frisky down here as we should still go upstairs and finish the job....
Every time we made love in that first week he wold talk to me so sweetly and just PENETRATE me COMPLETELY with his gaze; his eyes the color of Turkish Coffee, and a beauty that sparkles beyond space and time. I have never locked eyes with a lover like him; I have never been shown such affection and love, continuously from his sweet heart. He screams Hebrew words as he comes with me this first week; screaming literally so all of the homeless people sleeping on the boardwalk can hear. I kind of chuckle knowing the crazy absurdity they must be thinking!  Every time my Prince comes it is a huge monumental explosion of his love... it is not a small feat; all time and space is lost, and he completely looses himself in the moment so he has no idea how loud he is SCREAMING when I make him come.
We make love, and before falling asleep, he tells me
"J'taime mi amor."
And the Prince has found his Princess.

The Dark Prince’s Arrival into My Heart

       He came in like a dark prince in twilight, riding into the village of my soul, bearing an open chest of great triumph. His heart open, body full of power, warmth in his eyes, every word that rolls off his beautiful luscious lips is sweet nectar to my psyche. He had a conquest that day, and made his offering to me; A boundless golden heart, a mind with limitless opportunity, him an open book for me to contribute chapters of scripture, scribed with my body on top of his.

I did not choose to start to read him delicately page by page; instead I shredded the book open, tore out the pages and did not think how to arrange them. 

We had never met before he showed up on my doorstep; we were only a FB Business connection, only words over the phone, and now I'm curled up in his arms in my bed and we are wrestling around, feeling the contours of one another's bodies. 

He's half Italian, half Egyptian, somehow all Jew, speaks English like an innocent enthusiastic child who has never been tainted by the world, nor never lost his wonder for the world. And when Hebrew words are uttered, it's a gorgeous vibration coming from his soul. His smile and eyes say the same thing; he is a pure unblemished version of his childhood self, and if I can be blunt, perfectly cut and chiseled, skin softer than silk... But his bodily form is just an outer reflection of his inner light. His eyes are big almonds, a musky electric hue of brown, eyelashes for days, and a relaxed and open demeanor.

We are two young lovers, wrapped in each others embrace and passion, I melt underneath his kisses and words, each utterance from his mouth a holy seduction into the core of my being.

He presents his body to me like a gift, and I unwrap it. He’s a romantic at heart, and takes great care in speaking to me softly, as my Prince now addresses me as his Princess.

We negotiate around the fact that I am still on my moon, and him being Jewish, he does not mix sex and blood. We work around the hindrance and he works me deeply and steadily with my favorite sex toy; fucking my pussy open by my pink toy to boundless pleasure, my moon time making my pleasure more luminescent and radiant; I feel like my orgasm is a shooting magical glitter burst of love inside of my body, moving me beyond time and space. I am completely satisfied, which still leaves us to his magical Sword, which is a perfect work of art unto of itself. His skin is liquid honey and I love putting his beautiful hard and full cock in my mouth, teasing the rim. He gets my wet toungue and mouth artfully, I give as an act of Devotional Love; bowing to his cock to his pleasure, to His Heart.

 I relish in it for quite some time until I work him up to a full explosion, his come like a Geyser in Yellowstone, shooting a celebration of pleasure from his perfect body. That magical unexplainable shimmer is his come, and I lick it up like a Vixen kitten licking up milk from my bowl; a humble reward, a pleasure I rarely enjoy so much. I lay my head on his belly and we bask in the glow of our new love; a language both him and I are fluent in, but we do not speak with words, but with explosions of passion inside our bodies.

We sleep close to one another, his embrace so delicate and safe, something again so rare to find. We awake to more rough crazy passion, this time him finding himself inside of my ass; going in so slow into my most delicate place SOOOOO slowly, until it is all the way in and I relax around it. Then he can go to town, screaming Hebrew obscenities, pounding me like he’s an Olympian fucker, me taking it in so sweetly, completely out of breath from pleasure I can’t even speak.

He obliterates me in the best way, Creating so much contraction inside of me, I am a puddle of liquid love.

We reconvene in my bed after breakfast for round two; completely eating each other as if our bodies were the feast; the most passionate kisses, uniting in our embrace. My entire self opens to his passionate glory. He fucks me into God.

And we say good-bye like new lovers do; kissing over and over again, not letting each other go, each kiss draws us in slowly, and it takes him another hour to just get out the door.

*****

We still hadn’t made LOVE though, he still hadn’t been inside of my humble pussy, as he likes to call her. We wait a couple of days until he can come over next; he teaches me naughty Hebrew to practice so when he comes back he can be aroused by my words;

“Tizzayanoti ashrav”

“Tizzayanoti bavakasha”

Words that invite him into my body, “will you fuck me?” a loose translation and whenever I want to get him hard I just say those words. If he’s already inside of me and I say them and he explodes in come, again screaming at the top of his lungs with his orgasm. Everything about him was built for love, his soft words, his soft tongue, his immaculate cock.  

We have video of all of our love-making; he just sent me the video from our very first time of him being in my pussy; our legs intertwined, the tender love is translated through the film. You can hear our voices speaking to one another, and he calls me his Princess as I moan in delight from him penetrating me. 

No one has set me on utter fire like he has… a heart burning open so wide in our love, something so tender and sweet.

He leaves me with the words, “I fuck you better than when I fucked my wife.”