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You hold me on the very tip of you, driving that raging need I have, making me desperate to have you deep inside. You are so hard for me, and I am so wet and needy; yet you stay quite still and hold me on the very edge, because you can. Your hands under my bottom lift me with ease, to keep me just at that spot where sensation can be most concentrated, that precise point where I need to welcome you into the depth of me.

Your control is masterly. I cannot overcome your strength and force myself upon you.

Not for you the frenzied thrusting of hurried demand, but the tender exploration of the woman you have astride you, allowing her only what you decide she may have of you. Such is your subtle torture.

My flow is all around you, so that you can lift me on and off you to the measured millimetre, looking up to see my pleading desire, and hearing it in gasps of desperation as you allow me to tease myself around you, holding still and hard for these eternal moments, then making me savour every part of you as you lift me away from you with maddeningly slow control.

You know what this does to me, the arousal it ignites. You can feel the flooding demand.

You move me slightly to have you there, there, there, then exactly there. Then ease me again to another point of unendurable ecstasy. You find places I did not know of that suddenly need your immediate attention.

Each spot brings a fresh onslaught to my besieged brain. Subtleties that I could not know unless forced to make love to you in this slow and timeless way. I think I can take no more, then you discover a fresh way of testing my sanity, finding somewhere new within the flooding depth of me.

Gradually you slide me down, so that I feel you filling me; then you lift me again with exquisite slowness, until I sense the tip of you, but no more. My inner self knows every contour of you as I ride up your hard shaft. But not quite out. You make me hover once again, and I plead for the thrust that lets me know all of you. Lying quite still, you hold me on the edge, moving me in tiny circles so that my clit caresses itself on you, shooting sensations through my body.

Every touch there brings gasps from my tortured throat. No words are possible.

I want this mind bending torment, yet my being screams in protest at your denial. The sense of being poised and made to wait makes me want to stay here forever. It is a sweet suffering I do not fully understand, but I need more of it. I know your delicious hardness is ready to enter me; not allowing me to have you is your torture. Somehow you are making me beg to be overwhelmed, holding me at the very peak of ecstasy while you do it.

I feel my orgasm dammed up behind your wall of control.

Everything is there but my screaming explosion. How can you make me feel as if I am climaxing, yet not be? I build and build, then you hold me on the very edge.

You take my weight on your arms, and let me down on you with maddening slowness. It becomes my eternity of suffering and want, a torture so exquisite in its refinement. I become aware of you growing in me, until all of you is driven in; it allows me to be subjected to a dozen different sensations in a single slow thrust. Time stops, all sounds are shut out now. My mind feels nothing, knows nothing other than that which is inside me. This is where I am meant to be.

I feel my body flooding around you with my need of what you have.

Yet you hold me exactly where you can set nerve endings on fire, to keep me on the very edge of climax. The touch of you feels like a kiss, yet it is more than that. You are filling all my senses with you, and all that you are.

I lose coherent thought; you know where my body is going. My bursting emotions are set to overwhelm you.

‘Please?’ is suddenly the only word I know. You pull me down on you, and draw my lips to yours. Our kiss is long and deep, my body crushes itself against you as the length of you holds deep in me and your arms draw me tight. I am totally yours. I belong. The passion wells up and fuses us together, you’re throbbing deep now to sate my hunger.

We build together in perfect harmony, each lost in the passion of the other.

We explode together, the needs of one forcing the other into a state of mutual ecstasy. The sensation of you spurting deep into me flicks my last climactic switch and my dam bursts around you. Screaming, clawing, losing myself in you as my brain recognises you as the focus of what I have become.

The waves of me wash over you, again and again. I cannot let you go. This is eternal, infinite in the power you have created. I tighten around you to hold you in while I sense the very last tremor of subsiding desire. My spent passion leaves only soft tears to express my feelings now. You stroke my hair as my head rests on your chest.

My eyes close softly in contentment, knowing you will be there when I wake.

My writing is drawn from life, and what I have absorbed through my own experiences with wonderful lovers.

I want you to enjoy it too, if my writing touches you.

You might like my romantic novel “Need”


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