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We arrived at the hotel. Again I had requested two beds in separate rooms, but contiguous, as were the conditions agreed with Maria.

We went to dinner. It was in France, as before.

After dinner in the car, back to the hotel, I said, a comment no more important that my friend considered a pervert our game of feint and not consummate. And he began to mourn. I felt helpless, helpless, unable to react, take it in my arms, stroked her hair, comforted as I could ... and I said that sometimes the same as she thought

- Take, and I! I said. But it is a pact agreed, I do not mind the desire, but I like it. I like to feel the desire in my body, you do not turn it off. The desire may be, in some cases, an end in itself, has a sexual tension that otherwise disappears.

I do not think they understood very well. Nor, probably, me neither.

We arrived at the hotel. I had booked two adjoining rooms and two beds. I gave her pajamas, I said we would sleep in the same bed. He seemed fine. I felt like I was saying to heart.

We went to bed. As she put on her pajamas, I fell asleep.

I said something in a dream ...

After two hours I awoke, my body pressed against hers, my hand on her waist, my desire in my body and stuck on his back ...

I was uncomfortable? no, I felt that my body was showing his affection and desire. What would she be? we had already spoken, in fact she was the inspiration for the latest posts ... had explained that an erection was a tribute of my body towards her. Something that could not control, and did not expect her to do anything about it.

It was clear to both, and that is why I dared (and she left me) approach to cuddle. Despite my erection, that rather than stand, we went with them.

And so we spent the night. I woke up a few times, she woke up others. Ever put in a dream so I was very difficult, almost impossible to avoid touching your breasts. But it was not, at least not well.

In the morning, and more awake, I stroked her hair, body, made him a back massage that ended with an affectionate hug and shirtless pajamas.

Even in dreams, I stroked her body, breasts, neck, head, back. As I felt my erection by force against my body against hers. It was a strange situation. Both aware of my excitement, both she and I comfortable with it, I knew that once I got out of bed I was going to happen, it ... do not know what she thought, do not talk about it.

You might think it was a strange situation. One woman, half naked, letting caressed by a friend, knowing both that the situation is not beyond reach. That what is usually the preliminaries to stay in this ... Location of adolescents. Only teens can lose papers, and here we knew both that she and I were going to lose.

And there I was, sitting in bed with his back against the headboard of the bed, legs spread, and the body of Mary, also seated, leaning against my pubis, stroking her back and a single comment ... by her, "is that hard that I feel?".

And both were well, we both knew that we would not go further.

Why, you ask? two friends sleep in the same bed. And if sleep because the circumstances are (not because they look especially as we had wanted us), keep away. Do not caress the neck, hair, breasts ... because if they do pass the invisible barrier of privacy.

Barrera I needed to pass, and Maria had understood this.

And so I'm comfortable with it.

And why repeat.

And so I continue to feel my body leaning against his erection, and being at home, seduced by the desire of her body.

And so, because she knows I need, and perhaps because she also likes to feel my desire to go traveling again, return (we) to warm, return (we) feel the urgency of desire, without the need for completion.

Desire is the end in itself.

Or at least so I thought ...

He was, at that time, a clothes she was down, and half stumbled to nakedness, now if erect, the unknown, while his partner was the lot in the far corner of the room.

She also did not want that experience exchange club, which she had never interested, which had agreed at the express wish of her boyfriend, was eventually something almost shameful that everyone was going to hide in the background his memory, like a dirty little secret most of which was not going to talk anymore, until the day that one of them, angry at the other, sacase:
"- I remember the day we were at the club that, and you hid in the corner eating her pussy that blonde boat? you probably already lying before you had with her ... "or the like prettiness.

She wanted instead an open game, set, all to all, if your partner wanted to share - or would he wanted to fuck another, and if the toll was to pay someone to throw it to his wife that he should make it ? - Do well, and saw it. He had not wanted to come to this club? go ahead with lanterns.

So I took it to the unknown with his partner at that time sitting on a cushion under, while small tits girl was sitting on him, turning her back on track. His companion seemed to be in heaven, and smiled when he saw her arrive, excited that she had decided to play the game

He began to caress the unknown under clothing, feeling his flesh, excited until I thought it was time to wear it. He fell while his pants and underwear he was removed, along with socks. She thanked him.

His fingers were lost in their pubic hair, her hands grabbed her naked upright, staring defiantly at his partner, who suddenly seemed to lose interest in the blonde attached to his body.

She winked, not answered, staring at the nakedness of the unknown, her hands up and down, showing, showing him what he could do in the body of another, I knew to do.

She could not predict his movements, he did not know how near orgasm, I did not want to touch her, she was too interested in what he was doing, that your partner could see it well, could not tolerate distractions, so I gently took her hands , and put them on her breasts.

He focused on the movement of his hands, feeling the difference, which at that time stroking somewhat thicker, but above all, more "morbid", more liquid, more mobile, the skin had more travel, probably because the stranger had been operated on when young, and he had discovered that skin that at times a head purple and wet, ready to explode.

A burst is as it was her boyfriend, but otherwise, the blonde already forgotten that he still had imprisoned, yet only her hands, her body. She was excited now for the new skin, the ability to deliver or deny pleasure, but only with their hands, but his body was involved. His body untouched, her hands stroking his cock instead of man who wore his pubic every hand movement.

The stranger is no longer played with her body and she was just watching him, felt her breasts hard sex wet as if he had an untimely rule, but wanted more, wanted to finally give the pleasure that they were demanding, feeling his body arch, emptying into his hands.

But her boyfriend wanted to attend this time.

Undistracted

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Her partner and the girl had gone to a dark corner of the room, she sat, legs apart, the kneeling in front, face lost in the thighs.

She was standing in the middle of the floor, legs slightly open, while a woman's fingers traveled the road ready, eager, so often had opened it. Not exactly as she would have liked, not as I had done it herself, but could not deny her curiosity, and why not say, his desire.

And she had already explored the firm breasts to her friend and had played with the nipples, and felt his touch unripe fruit hard. I needed more, needed to explore her body, as well as time and other than their own.

She brought her nose to her neck, smelled her perfume, and, underneath, a hint of sour smell. Personal scent, surprisingly pleasant. He noticed her more, looked at his face, freckled, her hair, red hair, and told him. To get close to her neck, hands down along her body, did not know what to do with them, he dared not take any initiative. Without even realizing it, noticed that the caressing hands unbuttoned her skirt, took their hands, and get inside, between the fabric and skin to resume its activity in her body.

You had to continue. I was curious, fear, restlessness, desire ... a bit of disgust may also. But curiosity and desire were higher. All sensitivity concentrated in the fingertips, they opened a path to her body, revealing her navel in its path, the soft skin of her belly, the hairs soft, so smooth her pubis.

And there was lost. I did not understand, looking lips, looking where her body was opened, welcoming, and found nothing. A smooth surface. She parted my legs a bit, moved some hips, to tell, and if there was. His fingers then recognized a body like hers, while different, his hands roamed her body wet, without stopping, fast, and in an exploratory mission. He was surprised by the humidity, felt his fingers wet, felt a little spasm in the hands that caressed when he tried to enter with her fingers in her body, gently caressing stronger when the most sensitive.

While stroking, or better, exploring, research, continued with his mouth lost in her ear, nose in his neck, lost, lost in the smell of it.

It could be that was so wet. Suddenly he emerged a doubt, almost an arcade ... and if I had the rule? What if much moisture was blood?

He retired from it in a heartbeat, I noticed the sticky fingers. Miró, restless hands, fearing to see a bloody hand sort of like a horror movie. And no, his fingers sparkled in the dim light of the darkroom, some even came to join them trickle, but it was transparent. He went to his nose, sniffed it, deep scent of female

Do not be displeased

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Its smell ... that's the first thing that struck me when I loosened the top button of her blouse.

Perfume and skin ... remember, an air scent, mild like the crack of the sheet when it is clear the tree, an area of ​​lavender and orange peel, but underneath was vetiver, ylang-ylang, but above all, strength of moss, leaves and anger falls initiating its transformation into compost, a bit of acidity, the strength of the earth. Its odor slight essence of a soft French perfume, maybe l'Air du Temps, Tresor perhaps, but below which betrayed, and his desire.

Its scent of a woman! sex was not what I was breathing, was not yet in any case, it was all over his body, like a nervous thoroughbred, like him, flushed, pale cheeks boiling crimson one point in its center all blood removed from the face. Gently, oh so gently, I kept opening his shirt one button after another.

She had closed her eyes as if to concentrate on the skin of his chest all feeling, feeling the gentle strumming of silk to withdraw from the shoulders, thread by thread, thread by thread. His body, no strings attached, appeared in all its glory as a woman, pulling me, calling me, wishing me.

She forgot it, or not as it was called, but the smell ... the smell is always remember, that I keep looking, lavender, orange peel, and desire.

It is a contentious issue, and not lecturing one, but when I hear a friend telling me that morning (or when you have the rule, or when in the afternoon and takes all day at work) do not touch it before can shower, I caught the nerve.

In particular, because once we reached the level of intimacy that the situation is, it means that I accept it as is. And personally I like the smell, and if I do not like and invent a joint session of mutual soaping bath. In any case, except for the sheets on the bed on the clean smell.

I understand you do not like your smell intimate, my truth is that I do not like mine, but instead I love (in the sense of being loved) the smell of the person I am. The smell of your skin, smell the crease of the knee, a smell that was her when she was a baby (Have you noticed?), The smell of his armpits, his body between her thighs. I like all of it, why I would not like it?

Yes, please do not look at me with surprise, the smell of the person you are is as personal as his voice, like her face, as his pleasure. As we do not put a mask when making love (how about putting your favorite actress of?), As we do not get the fifth Mahler headphones to fuck, like we vindicate the smell of the beloved

Well as I said, I want the person who smells like fuck her, not perfume.

Incidentally, I like the word fuck, both for outright that sounds like the wet sound of her two eels, for use both vocal with little round hole.

So, my dear young grasshopper, let the perfume in her hair, neck. From the neck down, if you will, a suspicion of deodorant toilet in the underarms, but please, no more than that. It extends the fashion of a few drops of perfume on the neckline. Vade retro! cleavage, that smacks a bit of sweat. The crotch that smells like crotch. Men have fought so hard to get there, we priveis the pleasure of smell!

Recupero this text I wrote when I realized that morning had lost some of its charm (or, less discreetly, some mornings the sheet was no longer a tent)

Sugar Loaf in Morocco

Sugar

This morning when I woke up I realized that I no longer accompanied by his presence. It was not a sudden disappearance, a sudden death, but rather was a soft fall apart, Sugarloaf bitten, strong and hard at first on the tongue, gently dissolving, edges, each of them maintaining the consistency of the original fragment, although more rounded, smoothed by time, pulverized fragments between the teeth smaller and smaller, finally impalpable, leaving only its flavor as a souvenir.

Since I was aware of my own life, from my earliest youth I remembered there, dozing beside me on the sunrise, when consciousness is slowly opening the senses to the sounds of the house, the smell of toast and coffee the sun filtering between shutters.

She always appeared before I knew it, quiet, silent. My body was still lost in sleep, who first noticed his presence, and gently, slowly, my senses took over, and fully aware of their existence. It was annoying, as there are annoying habits, such as not disturbing the inevitable, I was just there, unconcerned, indifferent to whether it was uncomfortable or unwelcome. Sometimes, of course, its inappropriateness, or indifference, had to wake at midnight, eager, youthful. Then, in a loving doze had to play with her and calm her. Sometimes I was so asleep when he came only traces of their presence, discovered in the morning, made me remember your visit.

My co-sleep, no doubt unaccustomed, was surprised at first to my submissive acceptance, my willful ignorance of so intrusive presence, filed even sometimes between her and me. My words, my comments addressed to, she, feigning ignorance were useless. I knew if I got up, ignoring him, you forget, go away quietly and without rancor, in the security, the next morning, neither going to miss our appointment. My partner on the other hand, no doubt found guilty, or even charming caster, believing that the visit was due to his mediation, he felt compelled to listen. Then the most innocent beginning, the threat of more hidden hand gesture was enough for me to lose control of the situation, an observer of a brief but intense games.

That morning I noticed for the first time, which sometimes was not there. Do not cast even less, of course, I could call it, draw it, even the thought of her was enough to go, anxious as ever, always faithful, present, willful, and also playful.

This morning when I woke up I realized that I no longer accompanied by his presence.