'Passion' is a much overused word. A cliche even. This is part of a missive by my lover, missimos. It defines passion:
If I shut my eyes I can wash through me the excitement it is to have sex with you. How you feel when you're becoming aroused. Makes me crazy. Fans my flames. Well you would darling. Your air sun & ascendant does just that to this girl with the fire sun and venus.
In fact. You. The thought of you and the most passionate sex,
are entwined in me when I think on you. Think on you and sex is
never far behind ; )
I want to eat you. Just one night. In bed with you.
I want to burn you alive the ways I've often said that you burn me.
It isn't just your earthy charms and blood red cock that
inflames me. It isn't just your pale white skin and handful thighs I
want. Not your freckled arms cast nets about me.
Nor can it be just your cherry mouth that breathes such sighs.
The way sound of air through you changes when your blood runs and your
pulse thickens.
Though I love the sounds of you in my ears as your love turns to
lust. Every part of my body ripples in response to the small cries of
your throat as it sounds out your passion in ragged halting tongue. I
listen to you when you're aroused. Do you know this?
I listen to you climb the alabaster stairs to your heights.
It's a place you take me to. By the hand and by the beat in my
cunt.
I only have to think on you and my cunt quickens. It's the
most marvellous express of lusty response I've ever felt. Maybe because
I feel more in my body than I ever have before, with anyone. The ways
you touch me with your spirit stir the passionate within me. All without
hands. So much so, that though we do not meet face to face and
skin to skin via our unusual methods of electronic sound and video waves, still
can I feel the waves of you through me. Through my body I recall the
sensations of you, inside of me.
And I draw you there now. As I sometimes do. Late at night.
Curling up in my bed. Rather than draw the sheets full over me, I
draw you over me. You up me. Like a wave of red and blue from the
tops of my feet, cascade up and over and through my legs, till a flood of you
so drowns my cunt in your ardour.
The energy of your ardour. I replay it through me at will.
Because I know what you feel like in the dark my darling. I know the
taste and the scent of your sex. I know the feel of your mighty purple
rod in my small hands. I know it. I know it. I know it.
And I cover my belly to breasts in your waves ~ holographically,
till the cool imprints of you burn and tingle my nipples. Keeping pace
with the ripples in cunt that match the curling of my toes. As the do
when you lean full into me.
And the weight of your body is known then to me. Your flesh
through me above me within me without me. To feel as I do now. You above
me. Lay atop me your mouth upon mine. Your cock full in me and I am full
of you and I'm wet with you, as your tongue finds its mark within my wet mouth.
I want you. You.
You I want. The man with the maps and the music.
The man with the charm and the humour. The wit and the eyes that
are witness to time.
I want my hands full of your blues and your reds. I want
my hands over your thighs and your balls.
I want my pert kiss, warm upon your sweet cock. Milky warm
honey to paint my nipples to paint my belly. To paint my cunny.
I'm going to spell your name on my breasts with your honey
pre-cum. Till you tit-fuck the letters illegible. Till I can't
think the letters for the fire in my brains. And the scent of you between
my breasts makes me heady.
I want the smell of your cumming over me upon me within me.
Make me wet with your cum. Sticky and sweet. Rubbing all your
sweet softened meat upon my skin.
Then I'll curl up on my side. My arse a generous spoon.
Barely falling to sleep as your arms around me mouth on my neck and your
fingers toy my nipples till I cannot sleep for the fires that you stoke in me.
So easily. A little of your sweet air, blown over me, and
I'm climbing again to the peaks where we meet.