Oct 20, 2005
The Thrust of the Story
For those of you new to the site, welcome! Freaky Friday is the designated day for sex talk on my blog.
***IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER*** This is sexually explicit material and may not be suitable for younger members of our blogging audience.
This excerpt from CurvyKathy31: Confessions of a Chat Addict is continued from last Friday. You will remember Dan had just left Kathy on the front porch with a passionate kiss goodbye.
Fifteen minutes later I stepped out of the shower to the insistent chime of my doorbell. I threw on my terry robe, ran to the door and peered out the peephole. There stood Dan, head down and hands stuffed in his pockets. I opened the door and brushed a strand of wet hair out of my face. I let him in, looking up at him, seeing the burning desire in his eyes. Silently we embraced.
Finally I took his hand and led him into my bedroom. I turned to face him and he pulled my robe open. As he looked at me through the dim light of the bedside lamp I dropped the robe to the floor.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
He began to kiss my face, my throat, my chest. He continued to kiss and caress every inch of me like a three-part symphony of touch and taste and movement. I could watch what was happening in the dresser mirror and there, with him loving me, I could see he was right. I was beautiful. He laid me back on the velvet comforter.
While holding my gaze with his he undressed and soon was covering my body, our skin finally allowed the searing full contact we hungered for. The exchange of electrically charged sensations was like nothing I’d ever experienced. He plunged his hardness into me and I sighed softly, taking him freely and deeply into my wet, slick recesses.
Feeling him ebb and flow, slowly at first, then gaining speed and intensity with each thrust, I knew my climax was imminent. I began to contract tightly around his bullet hard member, crying out with each ecstatic pulse. Just as my climax waned he moaned with a final, hard thrust and began filling me with his warmth, again and again, till it overflowed between us in a wonderful, sticky mess.
We made love three more times that night, each time a different and silent expression of the passion we held for each other. In between lovemaking we cuddled and dozed ‘til the sun rose.
Still we were silent, as though a pedestrian conversation about breakfast or work would break the magic of the moment. He dressed, kissed me sweetly on the lips, said he loved me, and left me in bed to revel in the vivid memory of the night before.
Posted by Karyn Lyndon at 10/20/2005 10:27:00 PM