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A Woman's Passion Exposed 6/1/2012 9:15:10 AM
A woman takes control of her personal thoughts only to find a surprise I crave a different form of passion tonight. Not a physical one.
Rather one that stems from imagination and grows with creativity. Parts with truth and parts from private wishes.
A true sketch of the dreams a woman desires from a man. Wishes of my man. Some unknown man thus far.
I want to get this passion from words and build a moment in time. Writing only, to see where I can go. Lets explore intimate parts of fantasy while creating passion.
Hmm… lets see where does my dream start?
It starts with me brushing my long dark hair. Sitting at my makeup table staring at myself in the mirror, wondering how I am really perceived by my bad or good looks. I can never figure it out. However it seems to be continually on my mind.
All the shades are pulled down and I sit in my favorite lingerie. No plans, just alone and pampering myself after a long hot bath. Regardless I proceed and apply makeup by wearing my eyes as black as I can, to start. Lips blood red and Channel perfume.
As I sit continuing to slowly brush my hair, still staring in the mirror, there is a knock at the door. Startled, I check the time it's 1 am and fear kicks in. I have no one that visits at this time. Unannounced. More knock, even louder and a male voice, calling my name. I ran to my door's peephole and froze in shock as to who I was looking at.
He was real. I had never met him in person before. Only on-line and we had developed an intense, close friendship.
His name Jason, and he had come to see me, as he promised he would, one day.
He stood almost shy but pleased. Holding a bottle of champagne and flowers. I obviously said hello and he just smiled. His face lit up as he did and his sex appeal was oozing from every part of him. At least that's what I was sensing from him. He grabbed my hand and led me back inside my home.
Jason and I had been building a fun and supportive friendship on the Internet for some time, maybe 8 months. It had also become sexual, in a virtual world supported by web cams and private chat rooms. I had done things with him I couldn't believe, and so we had also built trust. I had never done certain things before, and he, having already done so, directed me most of the time. Very well, I also may add.
So now here he was, pouring champagne and fumbling for a vase to put my flowers in. I watched his every move. Still, he had yet to say anything.
I sat on my kitchen table dangling and swinging my feet back and forth, like a little girl. But I wasn't. My black silk robe had perfectly slid to expose one shoulder and my right thigh.
He seemed to be enjoying the treasure hunt for items needed for, I assumed, this romantic talk. I, in turn, enjoyed watching him. His loose blue jeans and large white t-shirt hid his body shape, which indeed created my own quiet excitement. I adored his messy hair, lack of a belt or watch and one piece of jewelry that dangled from his neck.
I felt nervous as to what would happen next. I needed to keep reminding myself it didn't matter and to relax. He seemed very comfortable and in a way seemed to expect and know what was going to happen next.
It was then, as I was quietly dreaming, no longer alone in my messy kitchen, he approached me. Carrying two glasses of champagne, in one hand. I was about to understand why. He gave me a sip, holding the glass, and then took one himself. With no hesitation, having still not said a word took my robe and rubbed it against his cheek close enough to smell my channel. He placed the glasses in the air and poured the bubbly liquid onto my lingerie and soft skin. Then dropped my robe to the floor, and traced my face, neck and chest with his finger.
He grabbed and held me with such force I gasped. Then he smiled and softly said, "hello."
Before I knew it, he had stripped down to nothing, and left me to be the tease, in my guarder and lace stockings. This felt perfect.
I am shy when it comes to intimacy. But, he was directing me, and leading this entire encounter, perfectly. In such a way, I was comfortable, yet felt safe.
I was so different now in person, in the flesh. I was surprised. Given everything we had shared and done on the web cam, I assumed I would be most secure, if we ever met.
Now here we were. We had met, and he was still helping me feel secure.
Even better, it was clear he was as playful now as he had been all along in our virtual paradise.
He winked at me, ever so slowly placed his lips just barely with mine. Then he wet my swollen pink lips and kissed me. Not hard, but gently. Not messy but perfectly. I closed my eyes. I could no longer keep them open, and he tasted so good. We seemed to have kissed forever.
I was given no choice but to surrender to his lead.
He lifted me, carried me into the washroom, and placed me in the shower. Of course proceeded to turn on the water, then soaped the sticky areas on me, from the champagne. I was still clothed in my lingerie, and was interested, rather anxious, to see when he was going to take them off me.
Sure enough he started to right then. Piece by piece as he undressed me, I loved watching him watch me. The way he studied me made me feel unique. The way he touched me to undress me, made me feel fragile. The way he smiled in the process at new discoveries made me feel more confident.
As we lathered each other in playfulness beneath the warm water.
I froze. I had a sudden sense of panic. More like a self-conscience bout of cold feet. I suddenly felt awkward and too exposed. I wanted to jump out and get dressed. Clearly I was having some kind of anxiety attack and felt as though I was unable to handle this level of intimacy with Jason. I told him so.
He had become aware of something from my body language and stiffness. He asked me if I wanted to stop and it was okay. But I didn't. I just wanted to relax and not be so embarrassed about my body. I wanted to feel free like him. I wanted to allow myself to act out my own desires and show him who I really could be. Again I told him all this.
He wrapped a towel around me, took my hand and led my to my bedroom. Still wet he suggested we just lye beside one another and breathe. He reassured me there was no pressure and this might help. It was like sex medicine. It slowed me right down and seeing him still granted me the permission to be that person inside me.
Trust, communication and open-mindedness was going to present me with a gift. For myself this time around. That was because I wanted him completely. Bottom line;
I wanted him to want me so I could, in return, for him, be the woman I was.
Exploring, playing and uniting from what had been built up for 8 months, we unleashed. I was in my true passion, and sharing it with a man whom was gentle and helped me through the process.
I couldn't stop; each orgasm grew stronger and stronger. Every time, closer together. He himself restrained to please me more.
This ecstasy repeated itself all evening. With every touch someplace new, over and over. Each time, tasting each other somewhere needful. Each time saying to each other safely whatever we wanted. But mostly continuously needing each other making a bond by feeling wanted.
I never thought we would actually meet, just words to keep the friendship alive on-line.
I will finish with this. Jason left the following morning and we haven't spoken since. Not on line or by telephone. I miss him. I miss our chats.
He, I believe, completed his moment. I must be grateful because of him I also completed mine.
One moment in time I will never forget. One moment of dreaming I will never regret.
