My lips and fingertips begin to tingle. My eyes retrieving memories of the air and light trapped between us, our senses lit from within, with the Tantric sensation of our auras touching, the light beneath our skins compressing as we’re coming into closer contact.

I consider the cup and caps of your knees, and a sense of your scent finds me, inhaling a deep intimate recollection, a mysterious and provocative oriental fragrance, the sensual scent of Coco Channel.

I journey further, my eyes gently treading their way over the smooth toned tenderness of your thighs, the feel of you finding me again, a gentle confident strength in the firm of my palm, memories of feeling your supple musculature yielding to my touch.

The tapering splendor of your thighs, classically carved, my mind circumvoluting, following a rolling, scrolling, curling, twisting journey, spiraling my way around your gorgeous pair of capital columns. Finding an architecture defined inside your form, a geometry that would make Fibonacci weep.

A swelling, tingling throb grows in my groin, my eyes dilating, widening as they take in the reveal of your hip, your beautiful new green dress gathered, a rumpled corrugation of cloth captured under your arm, daring me to draw in the delicate floral details of silky cream, greens and lace.

Your new knickers! How very dare you. The very ones I chose by hand. Knowing I’ve held their sensuous soft fabric to my face, and inhaled their newness, cementing the sensation with memories of your musk.

Knowing I’ve rubbed their soft lace delicacy against my swelling groin, gripped their silky feel to my cock and slowly stroked my manhood to a rock hardened throb. Stroked my cock over an image of you. Stroked until my hot creamy spunk pumped and oozed, splattering your picture with pure pleasure.

My masculinity hardens between my thighs. My confidence climbing up inside my chest. My manhood commanding my mind to consider an orgy of possibilities.

My eyes return to yours. Timeless. The energy of your smiling eyes finding mine, as if for the first time, and as fresh as yesterday.

I slip off my bed, my bare feet sink into the wool carpet. My jeans tight, my cock so hard and urgent. My fitted floral shirt hangs loose over the low cut of my denim.

I step through the white baroque frame of your tall mirror. My feet planting down into the thick soft white twill of your rug…

~ IV ~

Our eyes remain interlocked as you slowly lower your iPad, the green cloth of your dress falling from under your elbow, your mouth gently opening with a bewildered expression of how?

I reach for your hand and relieve you of your iPad, tossing it casually onto your bed. My arms coil around you drawing you onto my kiss. Our eyes close, our lips pressing together. I’m holding you against me, feeling your body flex and slowly melt into the confident strength of my physique.