Play the incitement game
My lover and I, after sustaining a very-sexed up relationship for many years, still disagree about one thing. We debate about what incites us to our most intense, passionate, ecstatic sex—-the lovemaking that leaves us marveling at the mystery of the erotic.
My lover insists that nothing turns her on more than watching me fuck hard and every which way another woman. I almost agree with her, as I do l love the moment when my lover, sensing that I am bringing another woman to climax, grabs me by my balls and whispers in my ear encouragement to take her mercilessly, and then holds on to squeeze my balls with loving care as I release into her.
In turn, nothing makes me more apt to orgasm powerfully—-and rebound quicker-—than sharing my lover with another man. Together, back alone in bed, we relive every favorite moment from the look in his eyes as I strip her down to the sounds of his moans as she edges him on with her oral, and then takes him reverse cowgirl, milking his cock of every drop of cum energy, as she sucks mine and locks onto my eyes with her most wicked, loving look.
Our last time, I won the debate. We found a man visiting LA on a trip who had the look—and the size—she likes best. We booked a room in our favorite hotel. We met first for drinks and dinner. He was very charming, not the least bit pushy. The heat began kindling in her from the first moment. We took our time over dinner, sharing stories. By the end, she wanted him so bad. We ordered dessert, but she gave us her look and pulled us from our seats before it arrived.
Back in our room, she went full Latina caliente, stripping to her lingerie, making him watch her play with herself, then reverencing his manhood with every Cleopatra touch known to a woman.
He fucked her the best, making her come time and again. Remarkably, soon after draining him a third time, she had him up again. I paid him a compliment. I left the room, leaving them alone. She didn’t call me back to the room until 4 am. We fucked relentlessly the rest of the day.
Petits dessins d'intimité, Paris.