story code: MF

Bedroom Diaries (April 12th)
by Adia©

Tonight, I no longer indulge in fantasies of our love making. Breakfast and lunch came and went.
For breakfast, I had French toast, hash browns and strawberry filling on the side. You had two eggs
over-easy, toast and pancakes. The phone rang and as you stood there by the living room talking to
somebody, I can’t remember, I sat at the breakfast table thinking of you. If you were paying attention,
my mischievous smile indicated that I was up to something. I dipped my finger in my strawberry
filling and lightly traced my bottom lip. From corner to corner, I licked every trace of evidence several
times while thinking of ways to use this strawberry filling to its full potential. I wanted to push every
plate, cup, utensil and whatever was left from breakfast on the floor, plop either leg on the table and
take that filling and distract you from your conversation. How I could have trailed the filling from
breast to breast down the middle of my stomach and past my belly button. Moved the table over so
you could get a 10-foot view of my pussy drenched and dripping with my natural exotic juices and
now warm strawberry filling all while taking the banana from the fruit bowl and demonstrating the
advantages to lip-service no technology in the morning. Squeezed breasts against the banana;
sliding it down my stomach. How many circles and shapes I could make in the filling. Spell out the
words “ I want you” as if it wasn’t obvious. Knowing you, the banana would have gone as far as a
lesson in to Penile and Vaginal Introduction 101. By lunch, my fantasies were down to a minimum.
We decided to go out to Josie and Rosie’s for some Italian. You ordered the veal parmigiana and I
had the parmigiana with chicken. Both served with spaghetti and garlic bread. Normally we would
have a nice red wine, but the last thing we needed was to leave the restaurant blissful drunk and
with barely enough money in our pockets. Instead you had a coffee; two creamers and one packet of
sugar. I had a apple juice and we both had a tall glass of water; free with the meal I take it. Our lunch
topic for today was the good with the bad of our past and the excitement of our future. It was your turn
to tell what you pictured our future to be like. At least two kids, great careers and us being happy
together to sum things up. Another mischievous grin on my face. I blame you for all my sex oriented
thoughts. This time it was the meat sauce that I had with my chicken parmigiana. I could have gone
into a full depth mental picture of what I would have loved to do with that sauce but the conversation
at hand was more important. So I decided to wait until we got back to the hotel room.

We decided to travel to Canada and rest in a bed and breakfast for the weekend. The ride up there
from California wasn’t bad; from one “CA” to the other. Getting past the border wasn’t a problem.
The long line was annoying not to mention the heat adjustment, but after the questions and other
safety precautions, we were in and on our way to a stress-free weekend. After lunch we took a long
stroll around town to admire the trees, flowers and crisp air that we won’t get a chance to have when
we go back home. After the stroll and more talking, we went back to the bed and breakfast to indulge
ourselves in dessert. We have another day left here until we have to go back home and wanted
every moment to count. After a long day of spending time with you and visions of lurking sexual
activities I want to try, the time has come for one of our favorite pastimes.

I never did tell you the best way we make love. Nothing is said between us. No words, no names, no
moans can began to tell or describe the natural ecstasy we are feeling at this moment. We rushed
to the room and removed our clothing. It wasn’t the red satin bra and panties with the tracing lace on
my inner and outer thighs that I had on, or the Hanes briefs that have a perfect fit; not too tight and
not too loose that you had on underneath our clothes that were being worshiped tonight. My
fingertips have more memory about your body than my mind every could. Every strain of hair from
you head down and over to each smooth eyebrow is vivid in every touch. A mix of your mysterious
cologne and light sweat of anticipation has my sense of smell going bonkers. My tongue is an artist
around your ear, trying to capture every formation with my taste buds. From the cartilage down to the
two loops pierced in the loose skin in your right ear, I indulge.

As I travel down to your cheeks, I blow sweet air flowing down to your neck. Normally I would lick up
and down from side to side of your nibble-tempting neck but tonight I let my fingers do the walking.
From fingertips to fingernails, I could touch your neck for hours and never go numb in feeling. With
these brown eyes in full color, I stare in comprehensive view of what is and always will be mine. My
hands crave as I move down to your broad shoulders, defined biceps and triceps. Although you
wished they were more defined, tonight let me have my fun and in silence show you how much your
body is appreciated by more than just my five senses. Tonight let me show you what you took
advantage of for so long. The chest where I rest my head nightly and awake upon every morning is
in its finest tonight. From breast to breast and the hair upon your chest, I adore the neglected and
what you consider shameful. You call it a winter coat, I call it part of a man. From tip to end that hair
is definition of your roots. A heritage I wish to know more of and beneath said chest hair and the
breathing chest itself, I hear the sweetest sounds of a beating heart of the body I glorify here and

No creams, no chocolates, no fillings of blueberry or strawberry tonight. My face, tongue, bare C-cup
breasts and hands in their own independence of each other make elicit pictures of your stomach. I
turn you over and draw invisible shapes and words on your back. I write “ I love you” on your upper
back. In the middle going down and on your lower back I trace “ I want to fuck you”. Before and after I
outline every bone and your spine, I do this. The fullest I’ve every seen for a guy, your ass is
squeezable, lickable and I want to engrave my hands prints in each ass cheek. And underneath
write “Shaleen was here", for this is my property and in case this is the last night I am able to do
this, the next woman will know who was before her and in time after her and yes I am that good. I roll
you over and at attention your cock is hard and enthusiastic to invade, but will have to abide by
tonight’s intentional occasion. Many times, I’ve licked, tongue twirled in circles and “S”,”L” and “I”
shapes and letter connections around that cock. The fire within my vagina walls has felt the wrath
many times but for now I’ll gander and stroke until you crave a lick. Sigh. Skin upon skin, grind
against grind, my inner thighs lapped, swayed, dug and intertwined with your thighs melted and
made our own concoction of friction and lust. My hands now swim in every inch of your thighs. Like a
first time maiden, you lay me down upon the bed and present your “Ode to me”.

Your draw a line from forehead to lips. I can taste the salt and sweat in your fingertips. I taste every
indent and line in every finger that crosses my lips and tongue. Your fingers leave my mouth too
soon but you have many-a-territory to cover, but love we have all night. I raise my chin, a hand falls to
my neck. A lovely “V” and swirl from left to right to the middle of my chest; the things your hands can
do. Your mouth indulges too much in a trails of nibbles down my neck; from left to right, you smile
and my neck feels every curve your mouth makes. Your hands will walk up and down my shoulders,
a trail of licks will follow. I resist my hands from pressing your head to go lower quickly. I want to
moan but silence now, is better than golden. Cuddle and scrunch my breast, you pinch and gnaw at
my nipples. Slow and constantly you tease and torture me. I let out an awaited moan. A pressed
finger against my lips followed by a kiss signals me to keep my silence. I lick your lips and lay back
down and let you continue in your admiration.

Hands cascade from the top, to the middle, down to my lower back. I’m torn between rush and
patience with every sensation crawling over, under and inside of me. You bastard! An eager shaft
grinds against modest inner thighs. Now Irish hands and fingertips knead deep into wanton thighs.
Your intentions lead to my outer vaginal lips and it is there that you begin your gratifying
enticements. Fingers take notice of my attentively trim pubic hair. Outlining from outer to inner lips,
slowly reaching close enough to cause breathy arousal but remain at a torturous distance to your
avail, a tender clit awaits release. With no warning, you vigorously massage my clit stroking with
what feels like three fingers in fast and slow rotations, sliding lower and place a Irish palm covering
a anticipated clit and with the utmost technique of torture know to this body all to well, let all palm
and fingers stop in their tracks and remain in their current places. No movement, just a heated palm
horizontal to an anxious clit again in need of voraciously contained release. A kiss from the lips of
reassurance that this is meant to happen this way. Throughout the moanless night, the three C’s
are into repetition- console, caress and communicate with never a word between us. ‘Til this day, I
never did tell you the best way we made love.

© 2006 Adia
Bedroom Diaries (April 12th)