Sweetness

By C.B. Allen

Saying she’s a bit sleepy Liba pads off with a wink and a swing of her hips. I try to read but keep picturing her soft belly, her round, hot mama, hey mama, hips, lips and tits way of walking.

I come peek into our room, she’s only dozing, I can see flickers of animation under her sleep, under her velvet eyelids and flattened nose, looking so much like a delicate lioness.

Her gorgeous, round tit is cradled in her elbow, uplifted like an offering. I lay down beside her and begin to caress her skin, creamy silk my fingers alive with spiritual petting. I lean down and lick her pink nipple, squeeze it gently between my fingers.

She sleepily rolls over and I’m hit with her wafting warm tawny smell and her sweet lazy voice, “coffee bean, you gonna wake me up” and sighs as my fingers wet with spit find her labia, beginning the slow back and forth rubbing that she likes.

She stretches in her pleased to just be alive way and smiles “I was taking a sun shower” Her little expressions are part of her charm, part of the space she lives in and I chuckle as I move downward into her atmosphere.

It is another world, cunt is your air, I breathe her in, fill my mouth with her clit, roaring chocolate sex dirt sun synthesis, I switch my hands slick from her pussy to her ass. I begin rubbing gently just to make sure she wants it, she lets out a lazy moan and I slide my finger in. The smell of nutty, dark banana bread begins to invade my head and I reach down and stick a finger in my crotch rubbing my clit as best I can in this position. Love bomb!

Copyright © 2005 by C.B. Allen. All rights reserved.

C.B. Allen is an artist who runs on no sleep, sex, and other people’s words. She currently lives in Northern Alberta with her lover (the reincarnated Django Reinhardt), son, and three cats. She has big plans to live somewhere warm and preferably European where people actually know what hedonism means. Soon.

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