In the dark

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Dark except for the smallest sliver of light coming from the open door to the bathroom. Sharing a room in a suites hotel with a family member. Across the country from home. From her. A door separating me from my traveling companion. I am on the sleep sofa, lumpy, uneven, too thin to support any weight. Dark. The bathroom light is left on so that she can see her way in the dark, if she opens the door during the night. The bathroom is on my side of the divide. On my side of the door. Dark. Time is uncertain to me. The alarm clock is on her side, in the bedroom. On my side, nothing but the dark. An arm’s length away is a cellphone, and if I reach for it, I can see the time. But in the dark, time is uncertain to me. Even my body does not help me. Three hours ahead. Three hours behind. I am not sure what my body is saying to me. In the dark. I lie on my back. Looking upwards in the dark. There is nothing to see. Only my imagination. I close my eyes and it is just as dark as with my eyes open. A door separating me from my traveling companion. It may as well be a continent. She will not venture through that door for hours. Dark. And alone. Alone with my thoughts. A continent away is where you lie. Maybe in your bed too. Maybe in the dark. Maybe alone. Maybe a door separating you from the sound of someone else breathing. Or maybe just alone. It may as well be a continent, even when I am not away. Dark. And alone. Alone with my thoughts. I reach down beneath the covers and find myself. Soft. I touch my flaccid self and I Sex hikayeleri am cold. And alone. It is warm in the room, but I feel cold. And soft. I touch myself and try to warm myself. I think in my mind of things I should not think about. It has been well over a year since I sat beside you in that restaurant for the first time, and yet I can still remember your lovely scent. The mixture of your perfume and of your arousal. I can still bring that up in my memory, as though it were happening now. I touch myself and think about things I should not think about. I think about words exchanged. About graphic words. About words without boundaries and without either intent or forethought. Simply words of the moment. I think about words sent out that are a quick fuck in a hallway, and not the romantic and planned night of two lovers. I think about words that are a hand job in a car-wash , or a blow job in an empty room only feet away from people who would not believe or who would not imagine…. I think about words that are two fingers slipped into a wet pussy in an elevator, but which are not a tuxedo and black dress with a corsage. I think about words that are a hand resting on an ass, or a quick squeeze of balls while walking into a restaurant, and not words that are an expression of love and commitment. I touch myself and think about words written solely to arouse and to excite, to get you wet or to make me hard. Words that are a quick shot of cum onto your tits, and a moist finger slipped in my mouth Sikiş hikayeleri after you slip it into your hot and wet cunt. I touch myself. It is dark. I am alone. I think about words. Bitch. Fuck. Cum. Blow job . Words that we don’t use in polite speech. I think about words. Small tits but sensitive nipples. Wet pussy. Hard cock. Pearl necklace. Jacking off. Fingering. Pinching your hard rosebuds atop your tits. Stroking my cock in front of your face. Sticking my tongue between the folds of your wet lips. Clitoral sucking. A finger up your ass. But not words of love and romance. No flowers. No dinners by candlelight. I touch myself. It is dark. I am alone. Now I am hard. I feel the first drops emerging from my tip, and my hand slides both along the smooth skin and with the slick lubricant I am producing. My hand slides along the smooth skin, but slowly and quietly. I have to be careful. There is a door. But it is only a door. Doors are meant to be opened. They can open at any time. I touch myself. I think of words that create images. I think of pure images. Of memories. Tight black leggings with no underwear. The outlines of lips so clear, so obvious, so visible. Images that were not sexual at the time. Images that were the subject of playful words. Words that some people took offense at. I touch myself. The image is different now. The image is of lips that need to be touched. To be sucked. To be licked. I touch myself. The image is of folds opening, of pink dampness beneath the black outer Erotik hikaye shell of tight leggings. The image is of lips parting to reveal pink and wet smoothness. An entry to touch. The image is of lips that are not being covered for modesty, but which are being revealed to stir the imagination. Of an ass beneath the black leggings. Of legs meeting at that ass, and meeting in a V-shaped paradise of lips and folds, of liquids and textures, of tastes and of aromas and scents. Yes, the scent. I have it in my mind still. And now that memory joins with images of another day. And I touch myself. My fingers tracing patterns, some random and some with express intent to touch myself in specific ways. Around the shaft, the hard shaft emerging from the curls. Of patterns traced along the engorged head, a finger touching a hole and finding more liquid seeping out. I touch myself and my hand slides effortlessly up and down the length, and pauses to feel the girth and to feel the pulsating rhythm of a heart beating and driving the whole body. The dark. Images in the dark. Small breasts almost imperceptible at times. Distinct and hard nipples atop those breasts. Images of the healthy and taut and muscular flesh. Of breasts. Of a belly. Of legs. Of an ass. Of shoulders and a neck. Of feet. The flesh of a body, and images of touch and of taste. The dark. Some enjoy sexual exploration more in the dark, afraid to show their flesh in broad daylight. Afraid of judgment , with ripples, wrinkles, scars, discolorations all visible. Some like the dark and the mystery of blind touch. Of finding and not finding. Hit and miss. Of feeling a hot moist breath of air land suddenly on a hot and wet and waiting pussy, as a head descends between thighs and a mouth engulfs her sex. Some like the light.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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