I love women. I love how they look, how they sound, how they smell, and how they feel. When properly done up their hair is a cloud of glory around the face of an angel. Their skins so smooth, their bodies so round. The sight of a naked woman sitting with her back to me, her hips flaring out from her waist, and perhaps the sight of her breasts swelling on either side makes me weak, and men must be strong.
When she turns and looks at me, maybe she will smile. Maybe her eyes will sparkle, and her lips open in joy at the sight. I sit beside her and take her into my arms, ever so softly, cuddling her like a child. I get the shakes at the very touch of her skin, it is so soft and smooth, like that of a baby. It strikes me as a bolt of lightning to the core of my being, that touch. What can I say, we men are designed from the atomic level up to love you, to want you, to die if we can't have you.
The taste of a woman is a part of the feel of her. Lips feel like pillows, red chinz, tightly packed. Like one of those little shiny square sugar mints, except springy. Her teeth like porcelain as I run my tongue over them, and then her tongue dances with mine, each contact as if it were an electric shock like you get on a cold winter night and touch a doorknob...ZAP! I feel those at the base of my spine, every one. It stabs my groin and makes me hard. Sometimes I really do get so hard that it feels like my cock will burst, like a balloon with too much air. I can feel it throb, and my balls squirm in their sac as I make love to my woman. I hear her moan as I stroke her pussy and stir her honeypot to the boil. She stiffens...and then the moment passes. I change my position and kiss her slit, teasing her nub with my tongue. She stiffens again and releases again, as she throws back her head, eyes shut, and mouth wide open, her silent cries louder than any thunder. Her beautiful curls tumble down her back until the storm in her loins has passed. Fully aroused now, she takes charge of the situation and pushes me on my back, and attacks my cock and balls, now sucking, now jacking, now pulling them out by their roots. Oh, please do! Now, wet with her spit, she straddles and impales herself on my spear in one fell swoop, plunging herself fully onto me, making the final contact, the ultimate connection. My cock stabs into her cunt, and it hurts a little. She is wet, but tight, and the skin of my member is stretched painfully this first time. But it is the pain of lovemaking, of coitus, of full penetration. The last frontier between lovers, and I redirect it into the stimulation I crave. I reach up and squeeze her fine tits. I love tits. Tits, charlies, wabbos, boobs, breasts, bosoms, tah-tahs, chesticles, melons...all the nicknames parade through my mind like a chorus line in a strip joint. I'm a guy. Say what you want about psychology, about Oedipus complexes or whatever, we're designed by GOD to love TITS! You sit up straight as you cycle up and down on my rod, and hold my hands even tighter to your breasts. You're too far gone now to make articulate sounds, no more "Fuck me! Fuck my cunt! Fuck my pussy!", no more demands that I pound you harder, or shoot my load into you, now you just scream as if you are being murdered. For a moment, I get the funniest thought of having to explain all this to the police and the neighbors.
