CRAVINGS... a "spoken" Erotica....

 He doesn’t wear cologne very often. I like that. There is always this fresh soap smell on him with a little hint of fresh cut grass. We were watching TV. Well, the TV was watching us. He was sleeping and I watched him. His deep waves in his low haircut. His long eye lashes hiding behind glasses, which make him look like a professor. His full lips that I would love to kiss and suck and bite on. His chest. Heart beating softly, pecks smooth and hard under his wife beater. Arms, toned and dark like chocolate mounds. Stomach, sculpted with a six-pack, inhaling deeply. My eyes moved down, past his waist. His sweats were low with boxers underneath and I could see the imprint of his penis, not hard, but at rest lying against his thigh. My mouth wanted him. He moaned. He always moaned when he slept. Moaned or sighed as if he was at peace. I touched his arm. Traced my finger along the muscle and squeezed. He didn’t budge. My finger followed down his chest and to the top of his sweats. Still, the only movement coming from him was his breathing and the slight sound coming from his mouth. My finger traced along the outline of his penis.  He moved. Turned his body but did not open his eyes. I placed my finger alone the outline of his penis again and touched the tip. I rubbed it softly and felt it begin to grow. My mouth wanted him. I got on my knees and moved in front of him. Pulled his pants down a little, pulled the boxers down a little and pulled out his dick. A lot. All the way. He opened his eyes. “Damn.” He opened his legs a little and pulled his sweats and boxers all the way down for me.  I eased in between his legs and reached for his penis. It was hard. Smooth. Veins prominent on his skin. The head eagerly awaited my mouth. I kissed the head. I kissed the shaft. I kissed his balls. I licked the tip. The shaft. His balls. I sucked on the tip. Covered the shaft with my mouth as he grew inside. His hand moved to my head. More soft moans came from his mouth and I continued to suck on him like I was a kid sucking on a Popsicle in the middle of the summer. He tasted so good. His penis gave me orgasms without having to be inside of me. He fit so well in my mouth. I put my hand around his shaft and kept sucking on him, moving my tongue around the tip as he continued to have a firm grasp on my head. Why he would think I’d run from this treat, I have no idea. I loved the way he grew in my mouth. I loved the ridges my tongue ran over. I loved the pre-cum that trickled from the tip. I stroked him a little faster and moved my mouth to match my stroke. He had me so wet. I could feel yoni throbbing and the firmer he grabbed my head, the wetter I became. As his moans became curse words, my orgasms began to erupt as my mouth continued to stroke him with pleasure. I was so turned on by seeing him get turned on. His head was back, eyes closed. As my pace continued to grow a little faster, the grip on my head grew stronger. He was about to cum. I was ready. I wanted to taste every drop of him. He jerked forward and grabbed my head with both his arms like he was giving it a bear hug. He wouldn’t let go as I felt the rush of sperm coming through his shaft and into my mouth. His breath turned into pants and my mouth continued to move slowly as he emptied himself in my mouth. I swallowed him as I kissed his penis softly. He dropped his head back again and within a matter of minutes, he was sleeping again.

As I lifted my head up to look at him, I realized I wasn’t on the floor in between his legs anymore. I was sitting next to him still watching him sleep. His boxers were on, his sweats were on and his penis was not in my mouth. I was disappointed. I touched between my legs and felt the wetness. I had never made a move; not even touched him, but the dream alone had created an orgasm so powerful, I could still feel it.  As he slept so peacefully, he had no clue how badly my mouth wanted him inside it.

Yet.

I touched him.