Beware of Medusa’s glare lest you turn to stone, forever cast a statue of fear. She once had beautiful golden hair but incurred the wrath of Athena’s tears, who turned Medusa’s beautiful gaze into a cursed stare. A gorgon she was made after her Poseidon affair, with many serpents replacing the strands of her hair. From her, sprang the brothers Chrysaor and Pegasus after her fateful encounter with Perseus. Her only sin was that her flawless beauty caused the gods to be jealous.
Kiss me now, and take me away from this endless sorrow. Let me find comfort in your whispers and the scent of your hair. In your embrace, let your shoulders be the place for my falling tears. The beauty of your femininity comforts me. Your love is soothing medicine. The doses of you are immeasurable. The potency of your portion is incredible. With you I can be vulnerable. The essence of you is wonderful. Let the depths of my intimacy tell your heart that I love you. Let the truth of my eyes convey that I adore you. Your indelible mark upon my heart signifies that I belong to you. The beats of my heart through still waters ripple. You are my angel — a life-changing miracle. Your utterances are that of an oracle removing obstacles with the force of something mysteriously powerful. You are my medicine; again and again, my spirit calls to you.
The remnants of shattered hopes lay strewn around me as if awaiting to be resurrected suddenly. The cruel irony; I was utterly broken without even knowing — I was listless as I was drowning. I was taken by beauty and ecstasy with heavy breathing. Thoughts of beautiful intimacy taunt me, causing restless craving. Once again, I am alone when the walls close in. I tearfully pray to glide on the glory of an angel’s wings. I arise in the darkness before dawn to hear morning birds sing, seeking the genesis of an intimate awakening.
It was pain that brought us together, and for many seasons we truly loved each other — but it was also pain that cruelly tore us asunder. My tragedy, is that pain refuses to leave me, though in quiet rooms I cry constantly, trying in vain to purge through tears what has become a part of me.
Still, my heart writes letters to her in the wee hours when emptiness pervades and the longing of the soul does not go away. The last words memories replay are, I love you. Please stay.
They said it was the devil that made her lustful after she discovered that giving and receiving oral is wonderful. They said that she used to be an angel. They impressed upon her vehemently that she should never try anal. They told her that women should not expect to have orgasms. They said that she should be a real woman and settle down with a husband. They called her a whore because she broke free from sexual boredom. They said it is unladylike for a woman to please herself and that when a woman is horny she should think of something else. They told her that pleasure is tertiary and that she should put her sexual desires indefinitely on the shelf. They said that for her many sins she would burn in hell. In turn, she told them all to go fuck themselves.
Pink lace holds sensual anticipation in a tight embrace. The profundity of ecstasy is left to permeate the erotic mind. A woman desperately wants to touch herself, but her hands are tied. Her erotic instructor strokes himself in-front of her, giving her full view of the size that she will ride. Her utterances and moans convey the vehemence of the lust in her eyes. She wants the mutual pleasure of a sixty-nine; she wants to look back at him as he’s inside her from behind. She wants to mount and ride his considerably large hardness. On his pleasure she wants to grind. He will make her wait. He will bring his deeply desired erectness close to her face. Maybe, he will let her taste — and whisper to her, Every good thing comes in time.
In heightened sensuality, there is a beautiful rediscovery of what invigorates the erotic senses and excites the body thoroughly. A couple will fuck intensely after a cocktail party and then head to the Trapeze for more excitement and after midnight orgies.
Feline fantasies are the excitement of her psyche that for so long have been played out in secrecy because of what lovers and others may think of her kink. She’s fucking ready. She says, fuck them, subtly, with the display of her latex cat hood prominently; when she’s being pleased thoroughly, she screams, fuck my pussy. Leather and latex against her skin and mask wearing, she finds particularly exciting. Role play, brings a distinct intensity to the passion of her orgasms. She likes her ass to be spanked hard with her hands tied behind her back during sex when she’s wearing full body latex. An explanation of the passion of the kink that causes wetness between her thighs and the excitement in her eyes, is nobody’s fucking business. Her arms and legs will be spread as she’s tied to the four posts of a bed, where she’ll give eye watering head and have her pussy rubbed and teased until she begs.
Slowly, wetness permeates satin panties. A woman awaits a spanking and a fucking that will be following. She will make the satisfaction of her pleasure known through intense orgasms and screaming. She is finally doing what she has been dreaming. Doggy, is the position in which she will be deepthroating. She bends over on the seat of a chair, silently waiting; her eyes closed — her nipples needing to be lightly brushed and sucked; her pussy throbbing.
