The Taste.

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Image: @tastyartgurlerotic3

 

Followers of my blog will know of my ongoing relationship with an online friend on Instagram… It will come as no surprise to them that this post is going to be a further piece of writing based around that wonderful liaison. The term “muse” is used heavily these days, and in my view rather too loosely. I see the term as describing an inspirational relationship between a person, the muse, and an artist, but recently it seems that it is used to simply refer to any particular fixation with an individual whom they find appealing.

Without wanting to sound pretentious, I think that my online relationship certainly falls into the former definition. Describing myself as an “artist” may be stretching things… but she certainly inspires me in my writing deeply, and as such, she is most definitely my muse. The relationship, based around Instagram, obviously revolves around imagery and so I am sure many might assume that my obsession is with a woman who posts provocative images of herself and I am fixated. Wrong! Her images are subtly nuanced and in no way gratuitous. In fact there is far more dialogue than picture sharing. The intensity of our conversations are quite astonishing and she constantly encourages me to write. The following piece is a transcript of one such conversation, albeit only my words, and not her comments, as this is what she inspired me to write.

So here goes…. 

The Taste.

You stand before me… wearing only the lingerie… you knew exactly what Master liked. My hands clasped together around your ankle… I slide them up slowly… over your shins… your calves… sliding over your knee… your thigh… the top of your thigh where the lace stocking top hugs you…

…my hands hold their position… my fingers unclasp and stroke the silk like skin between your stocking and your panties… my slow touch has you pinned… my fingers dance over your flesh… letting their tips occasionally brush dangerously close to where you want me to touch you most…

I slide my fingers between the lace of your stocking and your skin… and slowly drag it down your leg… pulling it off your foot as I look up at you and smile. I do the same with your other leg… sliding the fabric and lace down… letting it fall to the ground…

I lean forward in towards you… and rest my head against your belly as I slide my hands slowly up the backs of your legs…. my fingers linger in that heart shaped space below your most intimate place… I feel your hands in my hair…. I inhale your scent deeply as my fingers find the edge of your panties… and begin to remove them…

You suck in your breath when you feel the damp lace pull away from your skin… you feel the heat rise in your face and smile as you feel my breath exhale over your swollen little clit… you hiss and tighten your grip on my hair as you feel my gentle kisses on your skin…

You want so badly to lock your thighs around my shoulders… pinning my warm face in place… keeping me there until you drown me in your sweet nectar… but you don’t… you stand perfectly still… as I told you… “Let me” I tell you…

You let me…

I use every bit of my self control not to devour you… wanting to bury my face and fingers inside you as you need me to… my fingers relax on the swollen lips of your intimate place… my hands reach around you and cradle the delicious femininity… I hold you there as I stand… my hardness brushing the whole length of your leg as I rise… it rests in the heart shaped space as I stand in front of you.

My hands come from behind you… and explore the delicate lace of your bra… I can feel your nipples hardening beneath the texture of the fabric… all the time my hardness is teasing the heart shaped place…

You gently peel the lace away from one of your beautiful heavy breasts… I lower my head and kiss your porcelain flesh… eventually finding your now erect nipple. You gasp as I delicately take you between my teeth…

You cradle my head in your hands as I worship your breasts… the breasts I have dreamed of for so long… the breasts you have used to torture me with tantalising pictures… slowly you step back, taking me with you, and rest against the table…

Your fingers entangled in my hair…  I feel you pressing me down… my muse is determined… such is her hunger… but she must be patient… she will wait a little longer.

Our eyes are locked on each other’s… just centimetres apart… I trace my hand slowly down across your exposed breast… lingering on that beautiful curve on its underside… wonderfully smooth, perfectly formed, like melting wax on a candle… cupping it in my hand momentarily…

My thumb finds your nipple… their beautiful softness which I have secretly admired in the glimpses you have shared… now so hard… my hand commences its journey… down… leaving your nipple brushing my chest and your other breast still encased in lace, pressed against me…

My fingers stroke the soft flesh of your belly… circling your naval… the delicious womanliness… and down through the trimmed hair of your most intimate place… Your breathing is heavy… as my fingers tease…

Delicately I open you… the way you have dreamed… I hear you groan… your knees becoming weak… as I purposefully find that tiny place… where your lips meet… hidden beneath the hood they create… safely hidden… but not from my inquisitive touch…

…my finger probes further… into the velvet of my dreams… the soft filigree of your inner lips… and the heat of you… the nectar I crave clings to my fingers… you part your thighs… I know my muse wants more…

I know… it is so much torment as you read this… at work… busy… but unable to resist reading… even as your cheeks burn… your colleagues oblivious to the torture you are enduring… I will not stop…

…the delicious torture that my muse craves… that her master administers… for her…exploring her darkness… her unspoken desires… the pleasures of the flesh she yearns for…

…you gasp as my fingers leave… you cling to my wrist… desperate for me to stay a while longer… your eyes wide with desire… I raise my hand against your wishes… your breathing heavy on my face… my fingers brush against your breast… a silvery trail of you is left… I delicately touch your lips… as I have seen you do… they part… but different… the nectar of your intimacy…

…I watch… as your tongue touches my fingers… a pause… is this a new taste…? …we both know it isn’t… in the intimacy of your own privacy… it is a taste you know well… but this is so deliciously different… this is from the touch of your master… and you devour him…

…I draw close… and our tongues meet around my fingers… our hunger is intense… I taste you on your tongue… on my fingers… this time my muse has her way… I kiss my way down her neck…

…across your chest… the kisses are no longer words… they are real… your small hand raises your breast to my hungry mouth… the pure sensuality has taken over… I claw at the lace covering your other breast… an overwhelmingly erotic vision before me… my temptress has seduced me… she knows this…

…I know my muse has surrendered… not just to her master… but to her desires… the desires she has held within for too long… and now she is empowered by them… finally free… free to explore her self… as a beautiful sensual being…

…your hands press down on my shoulders… your eyes are burning into my soul… I trail my tongue across your belly… your hands are impatient… you grasp my head… your fingers entangled in my hair… I move my face against you… feeling the soft hairs of your intimacy against my cheek…

You watch as I back away slightly… kneeling at your feet… I use my thumbs to part your lips… spread you open… and before my tongue swipes up… I look up into your eyes… breathing against your need… you are trembling… I can taste your overwhelming desire… your fingers clenched in my hair…

You feel my arousal against your ankle… the heat… the hardness… your mind is full of the need to have me… to hold me there… to guide me inside you… but you don’t… you remain… each exhale of my breath against you is intoxicating… I devour you as the intensity builds inside you…

I inhale your scent deeply… and place one final kiss over your clit… I hold my lips there… for just a moment… and suck gently as I pull away… the sound that escapes from your mouth… resonates inside me… “Fuck me now Jim…”

To be continued….

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