Mental Erotica…

Is there anything better than watching, looking, anticipating… What’s going to come next? There’s an art to loving a woman, you have to be intimate with more than just her body. Arousal on a physical level is easy to come by but arousal on a mental level is what makes a woman fall.

Seeing her lying on the bed, her back against the headboard, all he wanted to do was watch and all she wanted was him to watch. She got off on looking him in the eyes while she touched herself, she was turned on by the self control he had not to grab her by the ankles and pull her pussy to his lips.

Men looked at her all the time but he looked thru her, his eyes caught every perfection and every imperfection and he made sure to kiss, touch and lick each and every one before it was over.

Some nights he was rough, nasty and insatiable.

Some nights he was warm, slow and patient.

And some nights it was fast, hard and a rush.

But no matter what position or what amount of time, it was always pleasurable. Because in his mind it wasn’t real if she didn’t cum. He loosened his tie, took the gum out his mouth and placed it in the wrapper he took out his pocket. The only sounds in the room were her fingers swirling around in her cat.

Her heart started to beat faster as he approached, her breaths more ragged, her clit throbbing at the sight of his lips.

“Are you ready to cum?”

She was already cumming at the sound of his voice, at the presence he brought into the room with him. She opened her legs wider, licked her lips and moaned…

“Come make me cum!”


 If he knew one thing he knew this, it always started with the tip. The tip of a tongue, the tip of a finger, the tip of a penis. The tip of her clit, it didn’t matter, the tip was always the first to go into battle. The tip tested to see if the waters were warm, if the pussy was ready.

She lived and died with the tips of his extremities.

He knew her body almost as well as she did; it was impossible for any man to know a woman’s body better than she did but he was damn close. He watched her motion while she touched herself, he studied every movement, every rotation. He knew when he jacked off there was a certain rhythm to it, a rhythm that only he understood. So it only made sense that she had that same rhythm when she touched herself.


Lying on red satin sheets her skin felt warm, she could feel the sweat on her back, her neck. She knew she would cum big tonight, it was early in the game and her body was already reacting to the stimulation.

He got on his knees on the side of the bed, his shoes off and his jacket on the floor.

“That’s it baby, don’t stop, I love watching you make yourself cum. Do you know how fucking sexy you look right now, do you know how pretty your pussy is? I see it in your eyes, cum for me so I can make you cum again.”

His hand fingered her nipple, but he didn’t raise her shirt.

His tongue shot out and licked the tip of her ear, she moaned louder. That was one of her spots, he knew all her spots.


To Be Continued… to purchase Walking Down the Aisle and Conversations Between Adults

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