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Describing Beauty

Category: Mature
03.04.2018
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I can describe beauty. It stands tall and slender at the rails of the boardwalk, allowing the sea breeze to dance with white hair glowing in the moonlight. It is elegance wrapped in a cream-colored mock turtleneck sweater and matching cashmere slacks. Beauty is a countenance of serenity, absorbing the power and wonder of creation knowing all share a common source.

I walk quietly toward her, drawn to beauty like a soul to light.

I feel the power I know is there.

I can’t resist it.

As I reach her, she turns and smiles radiantly. Her hand drifts up to my face and rests lightly palm on cheek. Her thumb slowly and sensuously strokes my lips, my nose, up over my eyebrow. She leans in and kisses me deeply. The sweetness of her breath infiltrates my senses. She moves back slightly to taste my mouth – her tongue caressing, playing, teasing. She pulls back and bright, dancing eyes look into mine.

Beauty speaks with a low-pitched, rich voice. I wonder at the forces which have put me at this particular place at just the right time.

“I don’t think you have any idea how much I need to be fucked at this very moment.”

I laugh with pure joy and pull her to me, molding her warm, supple body to mine. Without a doubt the wind and the tide are pale comparisons to the force of nature held within this creature.

Thank goodness the area is deserted.

I lower my hands to her waist and stretch my palms up under her sweater. The luxurious cashmere on the back of my hands is rough compared to the skin beneath them. I feel her warmth, her softness, and I raise my hands higher. I feel the small mounds of her breasts delicately held in silk cups.

“Pinch my nipples. Bite them.”

The contrast of senses inflames me — the softness of sight and touch, the coarseness of sound. My partner, my lover. My consort, my whore.

She peels her sweater from her body and pulls my head to her breasts. She runs her fingers over my smooth, bald pate, murmuring words of love and lust. I lick, I bite, I nibble…she bends to kiss my head then nip my ear. She has unzipped her slacks. She takes one of my hands and guides me to the inviting slick warmth of her pussy.

I draw back to watch her face as she makes her next move.

With her hand on mine, she leads my finger up and down the channel between her clit and the pulsating depths that promise infinite pleasure.

Her eyelids droop slightly and she breathes in deeply, allowing the sensations to take over.

Her eyes open fully and she looks directly at me with a sly, playful smile.

“Don’t you love the way that feels? Put your finger inside me. Know what I have ready for you.”

I oblige.

The warmth, the inviting wetness of the soft, blood engorged tissue make me want to bury myself inside her.

She reads my mind…as always. I feel her hand touch the bulge at the front of my slacks then slide lightly up and down the length. She deftly unbuttons the tab and slides the zipper down. Her hands dip inside my underwear, pulling them away from my body as she cups my balls with one hand and holds my cock in a way that only she knows to do.

I feel her begin to lower to her knees, but have other ideas for her. I stoop slightly and put my arm beneath her knees and sweep her into my arms, leaving her slacks in a pool on the ground.

I carry her to a bench nearby and lower her gently to it.

I sit on the ground in front of her, then watch her face as I pull her panties down her legs.

I hold her eyes with mine as I lower my face to her sweet pussy. I want to see her desire, her anticipation. My tongue reaches out to taste her. I smile when she drops her head back and looks to the stars as she simultaneously pushes herself into my mouth. The pleasure of pleasing inspires me. Oh, how I love that taste, the feel of her. Again, the contrasts assault me. Her soft channel and the coarseness of her curls. The sounds she makes – mewling, groaning, guttural cries as her first orgasm overtakes her.

She reaches down to move my head from her and raise my face for a kiss.

“I love you.”

She pulls me up and slides my slacks down my legs.

My cock stands to attention and she smiles at it, kisses it lightly on the head then pushes my underwear down to join the slacks. She rubs her face around my groin then up and down my ever hardening cock.

The woman is a true alchemist. She can make an iron-hard rod into a shaft of steel merely by rubbing her cheek softly against it. Her tongue reaches out, lightly dancing up the shaft and dances teasingly on the head. Her hand cups my balls as her lips and tongue taste and play on my soft helmet.

I, of course, can do nothing but let my head roll back and groan.

She stands, switches places with me, and gently pushes me to sit on the bench. I look at her standing beautifully naked in the moonlight with only her bra wrapped uselessly around her chest. She reaches to the front to unclasp the fastener and drops her shoulders down and back so that the straps fall down her arms and the material falls from her body. I have no idea why I find that last gesture so enticing.

As I’ve said, I can describe beauty. It’s a mature woman standing in front of me completely naked – a part of the elements, comfortable in that skin which houses a mind and spirit which will never age…a spirit that mocks the weakness of the body and laughs at that which doesn’t matter.

She moves closer to me. Our eyes are locked, our minds touch. I reach out and put my hands on her waist, guide her to me.

She straddles my lap. I slide down slightly. She lowers herself onto my cock….and slowly envelopes me.

We continue to look at each other as she raises and lowers herself onto me. I see her mounting arousal. I lean forward, take a nipple into my mouth and bite lightly. She throws her head back and falls hard onto me, driving me deeply into her. I feel the head of my cock hit her cervix sending shocks of pleasure through me.

We lose ourselves in each other and the feelings of pleasure mounting. We are completely aware of each other on a level beyond description. We touch, we feel, but we’ve left conventional senses behind. The waves crash around us and within us…tossing, churning, throwing…until we both shoot to the crest of the wave and ride it with the stars above us, the wind buffeting us to the shore.

We hold each other peacefully, allowing our bodies to rest while our souls kiss and linger together a while longer.

My lover stirs, kisses my head, nuzzles my neck, then reluctantly rises from my lap. She bends down to get my underwear and slacks then slowly puts them back on my body, kissing my legs and cock. She runs her hands up my chest, raising my shirt, which was never removed, and places a loving kiss on my belly. She makes me stand while she sits on the bench so that she can pull my slacks up completely, button and rezip them…placing a last, light kiss on my groin.

I bend down to retrieve the scraps of material that are her bra and panties and put them in my pockets.

I reach down to take her hand, rub it along my face, kiss it, and help her rise. We walk over to her clothes and I redress her, slowly and lovingly kissing the skin before it’s covered once again.

I can describe beauty. It’s the body that houses a soul of peace and love, a mind that knows no limits. It’s that force of nature that shares the majesty of the mountains, the precociousness of the wind, purity of the rain, and depths of the seas.

My lover, my partner, my joy, my passion….my wife.

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