in the mind

He took a shower while I lay in bed reading a zine. When he came into the room clean and happy, I appreciated him.

I asked him to rub oil on my body and felt his hands slippery on my breasts. I asked him to rub oil on my hips. The smell of the lavender made me feel safe, remembering other good times between us.

Then he touched my clit. Slower, I said.

Will you turn me over and spank me? I asked, and he did. I asked him to close the window. The slaps got progressively harder without me having to ask. The oil on his hands improved the slaps somehow.

Do you want to be spanked? I asked. He said yes, so I slapped his ass a little. It's gorgeous.

He touched my clitoris some more. I'm training him to dip his finger inside me every minute or so, for just a second. I couldn't explain why! I think my clitoris needs a little break, I said.

I want you to lie back and see what happens, I told him. Just lie there and have a fantasy about getting your dick sucked, and something will happen in a minute, I told him.

I looked at him as he lay there with this eyes closed. I tried to imagine what has going on in his mind. I admired his dick and thought of what to do with it. I went between his legs and just cuddled his package for a while. I pushed his dick onto my neck. I rubbed my face on the hair above his dick. I rubbed my nose on his balls affectionately.

Then I kissed his dick and started to lick it up and down, on the underside, and put just the tip between my lips, rubbed my lips on the underside, listened to him mutter. Then I went down on him completely, licking the underside, rubbing my tongue on the underside as I fucked him with my mouth.

I got tired and had him lie on his side so I could lie on my side too. I sucked his dick enthusiastically. Some deep instincts took over, and I wasn't thinking about what I was doing but more observing it, in a good way--part of my brain shut off, and I was only a sex-being, my only thought in the world his dick and where I was taking him emotionally as I gave him this attentive care. My heart was giving. I felt I could have sucked his dick forever.

I might come, he said. I nodded and continued. I'm going to come, he said. I knew the warm, salty liquid would be in the mouth and throat soon. He moaned quietly as I felt it spurt in me, and I was with him completely and continued to lick the underside as he told me he loved me between moans, and I didn't know when to stop, and I didn't stop until it was a penis again, small and calm.

Then I got up to wash my hands, and he fucked me with the blue vibrator while I masturbated. He sucked my left nipple despite the oil. What a sweet man. I was going to come and remembered the events of the past few days. My mind went from one memory to the next. I was having a fantasy about meeting in the dark, a rushed encounter. I remembered how it had felt when he fucked me two nights before, just pounding me from behind, and inhabited that memory.

I wanted to turn over. So he fucked me with the blue vibrator from behind, and I rubbed my clit--it felt so different this way, and I was somewhat starting over--but I got to the point where coming was inevitable, and I can choose exactally what I will imagine as I'm coming. I remembered when he had been coming in my mouth, I remembered the fuck from two nights before, I remembered a shadowy fantasy, I remembered his delicate viens and the sound of his moaning cry.

Then the moaning cry was coming from my own throat, and I was coming at my own hand, loud, and surprising the part of myself that was listening like another person.