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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1049052-Infatuation
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Romance/Love · #1049052
What happens when infatuation and passion rebel from the sanctuaries of our minds

She has black eyes. Dark orbs filled with the essence of magic and mystery that is midnight. But if her eyes were like ice then her skin must be fire, being light brown, Creole, the same color as Golden sand. Like a song she stays in my mind and like pure harmony her voice rushes through my ears. “Enchantress”. That’s what they call her. But they’re wrong, I fell past enchanted a long time ago. She seduces me now.
She stands in front of me, naked as the day she came into this world, with a round, perfect tail and breast that make my mouth water, her French tipped nails standing out like icing on the cake. I know I shouldn’t be here. Some virgin white voice tells me this while my hands use their own freewill to caress that flawless skin, starting
high and moving lower
and lower and
lower...
until I brush that spot that makes her soul moan and her body rock. Her sensuous curves speak to me now saying: “Go ahead and leave, leave and let your body fiend for me all through the day. Because only I ... can really give you what you need.” Looking at her I begin to wonder if this is the main purpose of life. I feel her taking off my shirt and I know that there is nothing, nothing in this world that I could want more. Her lips meet mine, so softly that I feel I could never break this contact. I want so badly to fall into this kiss, this touch, this flesh, never leaving until eternity is nothing but a distant memory. Her tongue begins to dance with mine and I love her for it. Her lips slide down mine, move across the space of my neck, planting slow sexy kisses like little reminders: “I won’t let you ever forget me.” She begins to nibble on my ear; ice water runs along my spine. A pent-up breath escapes the prison of my mouth. How can one woman be so damn fine…?


I wish my wife was like this...

She slips my jeans off slowly, letting the fabric fall away from my legs like rain falling through the air. I look down at her and she pierces me with her eyes, the innocence within them contradicting the way her tongue flirts with the muscles of my stomach, the way she licks over and under every one of my abs, working her way downward until she reaches the evidence of my manhood. Her hands work miracles, and her mouth is so warm and moist that the only thing I can do is softly moan: “Damnnnn Girl…” It seems darkness has engulfed the world, and the only illumination is upon the path we dare tread together now, the passion and desire that intensifies a hundred times over every time she takes me down the passage of her throat. I feel a pressure building in my groin, threatening to burst before I’ve even been inside her.
“You like this don’t you,” she whispers.
“Wait …Hold up…Stop I’m about to-,” is all I can say
“Stop?” she asks.
“Yeah…I’m about to-,”
“You sure she says,” she says, sending me a flick of her tongue that instantly puts me out of my right mind.
“No…never mind…just keep doing what you do baby.”
She does stop though, rising to her feet and running the backs of her nails across the skin of my chest. “Follow me,” she says, and I do. All the while admiring the way those hips sway from side to side like a ship rocking over the waves. She walks into a bedroom and lays herself down on a bed fit for a king, red satin sheets, with strawberries on the nightstand. She’s prepared I think to myself. She lies on the bed and in that instant I know that she’s in control. With an opening of her legs she could bring me heaven, with a cold shoulder she could give me hell, and with the right twist of he hips she could end this right now. I want so badly to jump on her right then and there, to feel her body pulsating beneath mine. But I play it cool, run my hand along her thigh and let my tongue wander over her breasts until she says in my ear: “That’s enough; let’s do what we came here to do.” She opens her legs. Tupac was right when he said Heaven aint hard to find. I enter her slowly, feel the warmth of her, and almost fall out right there when she lets out the sexiest sigh that my ears have ever heard, almost as if an entire lifetime of longings and waiting were wrapped into one breath, and when they were finally satisfied they exploded into a exhalation of pure…Ecstasy. I thrust myself into her softly at first, but then as the time rushes by I began to pump harder, rolling my hips into every thrust and loving the way her body flows with this movement. Words began to roll off her tongue like water: curses and encouragement, declarations of undying love, the less righteous talk about size and strength that stays in the bedroom. And when English is not enough she resorts to Spanish: “Amore, Amore, Amore.” Sweat rushes in torrents down our bodies mixing with the moisture that other parts of us have created. I feel the pressure build within my groin again. I try to resist it but I know I can’t! I control myself just long enough to feel the shudder of her second orgasm, then I pull out, showering the sheets with liquefied life. We lay there panting, our bodies rising and falling to the rhythm of the same drum, the bond we shared tonight never to be broken. I move to get up and feel her hand gripping my arm. “No. Stay this time…please.” I watch her lips form the words and I want so badly to lay down here and never get up until tomorrow. But I have to get home. “I can’t,” I say. She knew the answer before she asked the question. “I love you,” I say. She recognizes the familiar lie and just shakes her head.
“I’ll call you later,” I say. I walk out of the bedroom, put on my clothes, and walk to the front door. I stop there, wondering one last time if should go back. I resist the urge and open the door. I don’t go through though. There’s a woman standing there, tears running down from her light green eyes. She has dark brown skin, the sexy kind, and hair dyed fire red. She’s beautiful. In fact, she’s so beautiful that three years ago… I married her. My mouth speaks quickly: “Baby it aint like it-.” She says nothing. And that’s when I notice the pistol she holds in her hand. It speaks for her. She points it at my crotch. “Baby …please,” I beg, “Don’t do-,” She shakes her head: “Karma is a trick; you gotta learn how to treat her right.” She pulls the trigger. Pain explodes between my legs. I see her walking away laughing and then darkness engulfs my world...
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