Read The Blue Journal for Free Online Page B
Authors: L.T. Graham
his own desire. Fueled by your sensuality, he will believe not only that he deserves your favor, but that you are fortunate to be his lover. A married man in this categoryâand most of them are marriedâwill also be certain he can manage the risks. Like most men, he will have that incredible capacity to ignore the obvious consequences of his actions in order to justify a present need. (How else could we explain every husband who cheated on his wife and was then surprised at getting caught? Every one of them thought they could âhandle the situationâ).
The second factor, somewhat paradoxically, will quite literally bring him to his knees. It will come from your ability to convince him that he is correct, that his attention, his passion, his very being are the things that you lust after, the things you cannot live without.
Remember, you must proceed with caution, for it might cause him to turn away. If overstated, your infatuation will be seen as a sign of instability or desperation. Even a man filled with sexual desire cannot ignore those dangers.
Be prepared for his liesâto you, to himself, to the other people in his life. Still, in the end, the balance of power will have shifted in your favor, as long as you stay focused on the fulfillment of desire.
Our first encounter involved cocktails, suggestive conversation, a chaste kiss, and a subsequent date for lunch in New York. He chose a fashionable bistro on upper Madison Avenue. It was a lovely meal, fueled with wine, and we talked about everything but the truth.
Afterward, we left the café and took a short walk up the avenue. The sky was clear and the autumn air felt crisp and cool as the breeze whipped around us. He had a friend who loaned him the use of his apartment, a small one-bedroom just off Fifth Avenue near the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
We spoke less and less as we made our way to his friendâs building. He unlocked the front door to the small brownstone, then led me upstairs.
The apartment was dark, the sunlight shut out by heavy curtains drawn tight across the windows. He switched on the music system in the living room and it began to play a Mozart piano concerto. He poured drinks and placed them on a small round marble table in the corner of the bedroom. It was obvious he knew his way around the place.
He led me to the bed where we sat side by side. He took my hands in his and told me how happy he was to finally be alone with me.
I turned to him but said nothing. I just stared into his eyes. Then he gently kissed me on the lips, letting go of my hands and tenderly holding my face. I responded, his tongue sweet with the taste of whisky as he explored my mouth. I pulled him close, kissing him with a growing passion as I pressed my breasts against his chest.
His hands slowly traced the curves of my sides, my hips, and my ass. I pushed away, giving myself enough room to stand and pull off my silk burgundy dress. Then I sat again, my face warm with modesty and desire.
He laid me back across the width of the bed and slipped off my lace panties. My pussy was already becoming moist from my natural flow. He lifted my legs high in the air and then, bending over me and supporting the underside of my thighs with his hands, he began to lick me. As he probed the lips and depth of me with his wet, hot tongue, I moaned. After enjoying several minutes of this intense pleasure I moved away and turned on my side, encouraging him to lie alongside me so I could take him in my mouth as he continued to explore my tender regions.
He became even more passionate now, with a faster motion, then moved slowly again, and I writhed with the increased rhythm and intensity of his effort.
He reached up to massage my breasts and play with my nipples, all the while licking and sucking me, joining the wetness of his mouth with that of my own engorged flesh. He pushed the heel of his hand against my mons veneris, released, then pressed down again, creating a
The second factor, somewhat paradoxically, will quite literally bring him to his knees. It will come from your ability to convince him that he is correct, that his attention, his passion, his very being are the things that you lust after, the things you cannot live without.
Remember, you must proceed with caution, for it might cause him to turn away. If overstated, your infatuation will be seen as a sign of instability or desperation. Even a man filled with sexual desire cannot ignore those dangers.
Be prepared for his liesâto you, to himself, to the other people in his life. Still, in the end, the balance of power will have shifted in your favor, as long as you stay focused on the fulfillment of desire.
Our first encounter involved cocktails, suggestive conversation, a chaste kiss, and a subsequent date for lunch in New York. He chose a fashionable bistro on upper Madison Avenue. It was a lovely meal, fueled with wine, and we talked about everything but the truth.
Afterward, we left the café and took a short walk up the avenue. The sky was clear and the autumn air felt crisp and cool as the breeze whipped around us. He had a friend who loaned him the use of his apartment, a small one-bedroom just off Fifth Avenue near the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
We spoke less and less as we made our way to his friendâs building. He unlocked the front door to the small brownstone, then led me upstairs.
The apartment was dark, the sunlight shut out by heavy curtains drawn tight across the windows. He switched on the music system in the living room and it began to play a Mozart piano concerto. He poured drinks and placed them on a small round marble table in the corner of the bedroom. It was obvious he knew his way around the place.
He led me to the bed where we sat side by side. He took my hands in his and told me how happy he was to finally be alone with me.
I turned to him but said nothing. I just stared into his eyes. Then he gently kissed me on the lips, letting go of my hands and tenderly holding my face. I responded, his tongue sweet with the taste of whisky as he explored my mouth. I pulled him close, kissing him with a growing passion as I pressed my breasts against his chest.
His hands slowly traced the curves of my sides, my hips, and my ass. I pushed away, giving myself enough room to stand and pull off my silk burgundy dress. Then I sat again, my face warm with modesty and desire.
He laid me back across the width of the bed and slipped off my lace panties. My pussy was already becoming moist from my natural flow. He lifted my legs high in the air and then, bending over me and supporting the underside of my thighs with his hands, he began to lick me. As he probed the lips and depth of me with his wet, hot tongue, I moaned. After enjoying several minutes of this intense pleasure I moved away and turned on my side, encouraging him to lie alongside me so I could take him in my mouth as he continued to explore my tender regions.
He became even more passionate now, with a faster motion, then moved slowly again, and I writhed with the increased rhythm and intensity of his effort.
He reached up to massage my breasts and play with my nipples, all the while licking and sucking me, joining the wetness of his mouth with that of my own engorged flesh. He pushed the heel of his hand against my mons veneris, released, then pressed down again, creating a