D and I are together, in my bed

He pulls me atop him and I feel his cock, stiffening and hard against my leg as we kiss. His mouth is a journey and I close my eyes, losing myself in the pleasure of his tongue, our lips, as we touch and kiss. His mouth is a poem and I am a poet, abandoning myself to kisses that feel like words, pure pleasure, a pattern language demonstrating what loving passion truly is.

Of course I suck his cock, and of course I ride astride him, but the magic moment is that now-familar one when I feel D's hard cock come into me from behind, his body slamming into me hard, pushing my g-spot, an electric button of orgasmic joy. I moan and sing with pleasure, the orgasm building into a wave that takes us both, noisy and connected, to another special place that feels so, so good.

And afterwards, we lie together, and we cuddle, and we talk. It's late, but I am too energized from sex to want to go to sleep and the slightly spicy smell of his olive skin when I curl into his arm is so delicious, so nice, I just want to curl up and hold him.