Blue Sapphires and Salt of the Sea

I want to fill my mouth with your name-Pablo Neruda

He looks into her eyes. They are the color of blue Sapphires. No words are exchanged, for they know each other. From a long forgotten life. They loved each other once. It ended, but neither one of them remembers why.What is it about this chance meeting? Why now?

In an elegantly lit room, she kneels before him and unzips his jeans. She feels him harden as her hand grazes the material of his underwear. She smiles to herself, because she remembers him. The texture, the taste, and the scent. She knows he’s looking down at her. She gazes up at him with her sapphire eyes. They twinkle in the candlelight as she releases him from the prison of his under garments. She takes him into her mouth. Feels his rigidity with her tongue and then wraps her right hand around his shaft. He inhales sharply, his muscles tighten and he mutters dirty words under his breath. She smiles again, for she knows that she has pleased him. And herself. For her this is not about power, but pleasure. His and her’s.

She lets her tongue dance around the tip. Her hand moving in rhythm with her mouth. He puts his right hand on her shoulder, his other under her chin. He lifts her face so he can stare into her eyes while she is giving him head. She releases her hand and takes him into her mouth as far as she can. He puts both of his hands in her hair and pulls it. He becomes harder yet and tries to fuck her mouth. She lets him. She caresses his balls and then squeezes them gently. He keeps uttering dirty words. Telling her what to do. Like she’s forgotten. She knows. Everything.

He pulls out of her mouth and she licks the head. Tastes his cum and sighs. She runs her tongue down the underside all the way to his balls. As she does it, she strokes the head. More cum leaks from it. Making it nice and slippery. She wants to cum but knows that for now she only wants to please him. She wants him to remember, her. What she can do for him.

He tells her to suck his cock. No, he demands it. She complies and works the magic that only she can. Her hand is again moving in time with her  crimson lips. He says, “Look at me.” She does. His face is at peace and war all at once. His eyes are stormy and she knows he is close. He says, “Make me cum.” And she does.

He explodes in her mouth, on her lips and chin. She swallows his essence. He dips two fingers in the cum on her chin and tells her to open her mouth. She greedily sucks them. She looks up at him and says, “You smell and taste of the sea and I want more.” He replies, “Later Love, for now it’s your turn.”

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The Juice of a Ripe Peach and Sunrise

It’s funny how even the simple act of eating a juicy peach makes her think of him. Each time she bites into the flesh, the juices release, travel from her fingers and down her arm.  She licks the sweet nectar. Thinks of his  kisses, and his tongue playing lovingly in her mouth.

It brings back the memory of  the treat of a sweet peach and coffee while watching the misty sunrise from their fire escape. He was wrapped in a top sheet and she, their blanket. The air was crisp and cool.  She sat next to him, her cup of coffee in one hand, and the peach in the other. As she bit into it, the juices ran down the palm of  her hand. She tried to lick them up, but wasn’t fast enough in her efforts. It even ran down her arm. He chuckled at her, and set his coffee down on the metal grate of the fire escape. He grabbed her hand, and  took a bite of the peach at the same time as she did. He leaned over, and licked the juices from her lips.

There they were, holding the same peach, the nectar co-mingling on their chins, hands and arms. She kissed his fingers and licked them. He did the same to her. She giggled as she sat back and watch the devilish grin light up his entire face. They ate the rest of the peach, then threw the pit off the fire escape. She giggled again, and hoped it didn’t hit an innocent bystander on its way to the ground. He held her hand up to his mouth and sucked each finger with love and care. She sighed and he chuckled again.

She finally spoke and said, “Wait! I have to set my coffee cup down, or I’m going to spill it on the comforter.”

Her hands still sticky from peach juice, she held them under his chin and drew him in close for a deep kiss. He pulled the blanket down to her waist, wrapped his sheet around her, then held her close. He felt her warm breasts against his chest. She didn’t mind that his hands and arms were all sticky.  What’s better than a warm embrace and sweet, sticky kisses on a fire escape, at sunrise with the love of your life? Not one thing.