The Weeend

I want to enjoy the company of a young woman who is eager for the future, eager for her life, and the potential of a life for us together. She and I would talk on subjects ranging from any sort of god, the universe, death, laws and crime, conspiracy, political views, philosophical ideals, movies, video games, music, sex, food, and any number of other topics.

We would spend hours driving around the closest big city, enjoying the heat from the Summer Sun, the cooling breeze on our skin, the wonderfully vibrant smile on her face mirroring my own very content grin.

We may watch the newest movie, making small jokes quietly to one another as the film goes on, sharing popcorn and having fake fights over the maddeningly thin arm rests. The movie would end, we would rise with a stretch and a sigh, and make our way back outside, the Sunlight burning our eyes.

The drive would slowly become a painful tease: Her hand would find my thigh and mine would find hers. Her skirt fluttering delightfully from the wind giving me brief glimpses at her lace panties under.

My hair would stand on end, my eyes would have trouble focusing on the road, my nose would be desperate to breathe the aroma of her light lotion and delicious perfume.

She would find a comfortable spot to take in my image, leaning back between the car door and her seat, resting her elbow on the rest and her head in her hand. The tiniest of lip bites and my course would be back home.

We would walk into a brightly lit living room, curtains fluttering, the air fresh, the atmosphere electric. After kicking the door shut, she would pull my face down to her's, warm, moist lips on my own making my groin ache against my jeans, the taste of berries and a hint of salt from the popcorn would make their mark on me and I would memorize it, I would absorb her into my mind.

My tongue would search for her's -- Pink and delicious, soft and firm, smooth and rough, all things wonderful and fantastic when tasting her. The kissing would always be familiar and yet, always new and exciting and intoxicating.

Somehow, she would have distracted me enough with the laser-focused accuracy of her serpentine tongue and I would find myself sandwiching her between myself and the door. I would bend further down to taste her neck, the flesh there slightly bitter from perspiration and lotion, but with her scent heavily in my nostril, a trick of the brain screams at me that she is also oozing a sweetness from her pores.

Her body would arch and writhe as my tongue worked it's way ever downward toward her chest.

As if reminded by something, she would spin her lithe body around, placing her left hand on the door and cupping her right back on my face.

I would step toward her, she instinctively stood up on her tip toes, a sandal slipping off in the process, her calves straining to raise her ass up to my hard manhood.

I would kiss and nibble on her neck as she moaned lightly. The scent of pleasure would eventually reach my nose and would flip a switch in my mind.

As if trained dancers who had rehearsed a dance for weeks prior, I would slip down behind her and she would arch her back to push her ass our towards me, her skirt rising ever higher on her thighs.

I would snake my thick fingers up her creamy skin, under her skirt, hooking into her panties, and pulling them downward. Her wetness causing the thin lace to create a slight surface tension before finally pulling free from her lips. She would shift her legs so slightly to allow the panties to fall to the floor and, when I finally see her glistening pussy, I would bury my face between her ass cheeks, breathing her femininity into my lungs. My tongue would slither from between my lips, flatten out, and lick from her clit to the source of her sweetness.

She would reach back and grab my hair, pulling me into her further, my nose nestled in her asshole, my tongue probing her lewdly slick hole.

I would lick in broad strokes as to taste as much of her as I could, as if it were both the first time and the last time, as if I needed to drink her down to sustain my life force, as if I needed to memorize her flavor to tell God himself what Heaven tastes like.

She would moan and sigh, she would gyrate her hips and buck back as my tongue flicked across the smooth flesh of her clit. I would see her well-manicured fingers trying to slip towards her pussy from the front and, just as the realization hit me, she would begin to lower her ass on my face.

I would understand and, without any hesitation, but with a glee I could not describe, I would begin licking her asshole in broad strokes, akin to how a child would eat the first ice cream cone of Summer.

She would be biting her lip as she stroked herself, she would moan as my tongue transitioned from broad and soft, to pointed and hard as I would try, with a shameless hunger, to force my tongue into her ass. My large hands would pull her ass apart to allow me more access to her delicious orifice, my tongue would probe, lick, and flutter over her hole.

I would feel her flesh pucker and quiver and shake and tremble and the world would suddenly go quiet, save for the sound of wetness between her fingers and the slurping from the work with my tongue.

Her orgasm would crash down on her. Her back would suddenly arch in the opposite direction, her knees would nearly buckle, the noise she would make could only be described as a fantastic mix of scream and moan, my tongue would being pressed as far as it would go into her ass could feel it clench and relax as her pussy did the same. I would rest my tongue there until the quivering stopped and kiss my way back up her delicious body.

Tongues again would search for the other in a new sort of desperation.

My desperation would be found in my hunger for my own selfish release, her desperation found in an attempt to show gratitude without the ability to speak.

I would feel the wetness on my boxers, the slickness of my anticipation heavy in the fabric, as she knelt down in front of me.

She lost herself on me and she plans on making me lose myself in her.

Luckily, we would get to play this game for two more days, because this would be our ideal Friday afternoon.