TalkingEyes

So as it started out to be one of most dreadful…‘oh I’m going to drag myself today’ mornings, I assumed it would be a dull day…but did it turn out to be one far from it.

Hours delayed already my Bberry calendar sang that annoying voice note “Dang girl, you taking too long” and that was all I needed to get motivated.  Personal errands were on the agenda, so dressed I got to hit downtown.  With the current read of a hardcover book and my trust purse I was off.

With the sun beaming on me, the concrete pavement of the fabulous Park Avenue was the overdue dose I needed.  Scurrying along I knew I had to head back to the Bronx borough…after all I had an inkling that I was going to see Raspy tonight. So I managed to get down to business and shot right back uptown.

As the evening comes to a beginning, a text came in.  The text was simple worded, packed with much information.  “What’s up girl?  What you doing tonight?”  Raspy knew how to get me.  More than 20 minutes later I decided to reply “Just got in hun”.  That was enough to entice him to dial my number.

Peruvian dinner and drinks were to start at 8 p.m.  So as the idea of seeing Raspy wasn’t enough to put me into high gear, I quickly scanned the palace and then I jumped into the shower and freshened up.

As the clock ticks and finally strokes its arm onto the 15^th after the hour, his ring tone comes in.  Antsy and late as usual, I scramble for the Bberry and answer; here is where I hear his voice come to life.  I hear the baritone vibes send tingles thru my layers of skin.  He is downstairs waiting for me.  Rapidly, as humanly possible, I grab a chic stripped scarf, my leather fitted and my clutch.  The heels of the suede boots tap the steps to the courtyard.  Sitting in front of the hydrant there the coupe idled, with Raspy waiting on me. 

As I descend from the courtyard he is looking.  Looking at my stride, so tail feather show is on.  As I approach the door, thru the slightly tinted windows I can see his smile and I got weak in the knees.  As I settle into the seat he leans over – his kiss was shared.  Vehicle still in park gear small talk takes place.  Minutes later we are off to the Henry Hudson. 

As the XM resonates old school “Color Me Bad” tunes, we get into our conversation.  The talks started off on the stats on the writing.  I shared the particulars of meeting with an editor.  Interested he asks for more details and I offer him only skits and scats.  A sly look comes onto Raspy’s face and I melted yet again.

Feeling the need to soothe the man’s ego I ask about his production moves, whether he had completed those tracks and if he was ready to market.  Passionate about his hobby, life comes into his eyes; he rants and raves on the progress.  Wide awake was he and feeling so majestic about it that he lit the brown cigarette.  I timidly inhaled the aroma.  Moments later we have arrived.

Two Nutcrackers are set on the table.  Nutcracker one was extra strong and placed in front of me.  Nutcracker two was just strong and placed in front of Raspy.  As my eyes violate him I lusciously place my lips on the straw and take in a deep gulp.  He watches my every move and murmurs a devilish “Girl, that’s me later”.  I winked while creaming. 

Dish ordered, by recommendation of the infamous Raspy, and the food was chomped down.  Check is placed on the table and it is paid for.  We gather our things and slowly exit the restaurant.  As we step onto the pavement I attempt to find the imaginary straight line and he takes a hold of my right arm.  I melted yet again.  Strolling down the block, the coupe is in the line of vision.  Arriving to the coupe he gentlemanly opens the passenger door. 

I sit myself comfortably and he enters.  As he opens an unwrapped cigar he begins the degutting.  As he reaches over to the passenger side I instantly place my left hand on his arm.  He looks up, he reaches in, he kisses my lips and I allowed my tongue to attack his.  Make out session, like high school kids, takes up minutes of the idle time.  Completion of his cigar roll off and we are headed back uptown. 

As we approach the infamous hydrant I was dropped off as he went to garage the coupe.  Moments later the video intercom displays his face.  Entry was granted.

As I peek thru the eye I see he’s giving himself a once-over.  I unlock the door and let him enter.  “Hey handsome, welcome” was said, as if the first time he visited.  In he walks and heads towards the living room.  As he begins to take off his grey fitted, his blue vest and then his Blac Label sweater he chooses a chair.  After the tunes are set I tend to him.  Cognac is poured for Raspy and I serve myself a glass of wine. 

The conversation was kept light the entire time, but the sexual tension was the opposite.  As the tunes play, the alcohol-enhanced-friskiness came to life and I prowled.  I prowled this ass right over to him and he accepted my stance.  Making room for my body he adjusts himself and there I stood. 

As an invitation was brought on, his hand touches my shoulder.  His worn man fingers find my hands.  My hands are brought to his neck, he silently asked me to grab him.  He leans in.  His lips find the cloth line of my low-cut sweater.   

His lips caress my skin and his tongue follows lead.  His mouth begins an upward trail towards my neck.  Nibbles are set forth and I sway.  Standing there I permitted him to discover all of me.  His scuffed palms find my lower back.  They reach under the white sweater.  They pass over my skin and send chills up my spine.  His hands take a hand full of my back side. 

While his lips are wandering he motions me to meet them.  My lips touching his lips make my hands come to life.  They held his neck with intensity.  They tilted his head.  They slightly led his head to lean and I kissed his manly Adam’s apple.  Meanwhile his hands come point to point with the snap, the snap that releases the breasts.  Swiftly he undoes it and he takes charge. 

I was shown to remove my top and as my skin was exposed, he leaned in.  His lips found my areolas.  His teeth gently tortured them.  His hands cupped them.  He reaches for my waist and finger traces my curves.  He looks up and I see sex.  His hands come together and undo my jean button.  While giving me straight eye contact he lowers my torn styled jeans.  As his hands motions the jeans towards my knees, his lips continue the trace…stomach, navel, thigh and a lick to the lips of the butterfly.  As the jeans reach the wood floor his mission is accomplished.  His lips repeat the sequence with a backward twist. 

As he brings himself up, he leans into the chair and patiently waits for me to undress him.  I obliged and my hands find their way under his black t-shirt.  They find his manly chest and the nails trace uninhibited lines.  They touch sides; they trace circles around his navel and finally come to meet his buckle.  As I rise up and lock my eyes with his, I offer him that look that drives him wild. 

I pause momentarily and go forth with the unlatching.  The gate to his manhood was open.  My hands lightly touch his boxer brief band.  They then aggressively latch onto his swollen Saus-Pedo and friction is produced.  While taking in the tease his leaned head comes forward.  He takes a peek at my soft hands.  Moans and sighs are released.  Signs that he is ready he coyly asks me “So now what?”  My response was a silent gesture when my hands touched the skin of his solid Saus-Pedo.

Jeans absent and he takes my waist.  As if I was as light as a feather he precisely places me onto him.  Inserted was the Saus-Pedo.  The butterfly swallowed the overdue penetration, all 6 ½ inches of girth.  As the Saus-Pedo slowly made its slide in and out of the butterfly, it stroked it so well that instantaneously it began to beg for more. 

As he sat on the Mahogany bar stool chair his Saus-Pedo was experiencing a ride.  Full insertion was where the Saus-Pedo was reaching.  The butterfly muscles clenched the head.  The pumps were deep and rhythmic.  The juices dripped onto his pelvic area.  Hands discovered his neck and took hold.  Facial expressions told Raspy that it caused euphoria.  Manly hands follow my motions; they held onto my backside and a smack was given.  Manly hands found my mane and took a grip of it.  Manly hands held onto my waist, feeling the motions of the ride.  Enjoyment, pleasure and the want for more was the reason for Raspy to stand up.

Hands tied around his neck I was straddled.  His pumps were fierce.  They were passionate.  They were deep.  They were the reason for moans.  They were reasons that his fingers found the back door treasure trove.  His fingers fondled the outer rim.  His fingers made a quick appearance that sent an exhilarating sensation.  With the Saus-Pedo inside the butterfly he was able to feel my muscles convulse, he sat down.

While the Saus-Pedo still penetrated the butterfly he takes his seat.  Slow winding grinds come about as the muscles lose control, they massage the Saus-Pedo and the juices water the rod.  As he takes in the climax he grows harder yet.  Once the muscle action died down he motioned me to the love seat.

As I am leaned over, he opens wide the entry, the entry to the butterfly.  His Saus-Pedo makes a slow entrance.  As the insertion takes place he digs deep into the tunnel of warmth.  His Saus-Pedo has arrived.  Thrusts, forces, bumps and blows, of the swollen Saus-Pedo, are being served.  As he continues the plunges, I peek-a look-see at the backside action.  Head leaning towards the right and I see his hips meet my backside.  I see the satisfaction on his face.

Near the point of blasting he arches my back further.  Legs are spread even wider.  Insertions are more sensual.  Deeper and deeper are the insertions.  Tingles reach my toes as I sense the strength of his movements.  Words are said, said to not stop…begged to please continue.

In the midst of the action, his fingers find their way to my butterfly lips.  The lips are fondled.  The lips are teased.  The fingers pinch the lips and they find the inside of my mouth.  As my tongue swapped the juices Raspy smacks my backside.  He then goes again towards the butterfly lips and returns his fingers, to take his very own dose. 

His calloused hands raise me up.  My back touches his chest and we move to the same dance.  The fondling of my butterfly lips are done, performed by these feminine hands.  As he takes in this scene, he utters nasty words and I responded.

No longer can he hold back.  No longer does he want carry out sexy maneuvers.  He explodes.

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