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Seeking an Erotic Writing Partner Perhaps it's silly to be looking for what I'm looking for, but on the other hand, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I am a married gentleman who admittedly should be happy with what he has, but regretably wants more. I'm wondering if there is a woman...one special woman who views lovemaking as I do...a delicious feast that is meant to be savored and never rushed, and would like to share that experience with me through emails.
We can be whoever we want to be though I'd prefer a woman close in age to me. And since we all have our preferences, the woman I imagine making love to is short in stature, curvy and voluptuous. If you think you might be that woman, then please...feel free to add to my story.
Standing at the door, she looked at the man beside her, her expressive eyes filled with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Not a surprising range of emotions since this man would soon be her lover.
He stood for a moment, meeting her gaze and smiled his reassuring smile…the one that always put her at ease, before inserting the key into the lock. An instant later they stepped into the rustic chalet.
Closing the door behind him, he walked quickly to the far side of the room, switched a lamp on, filling the living room with a warm glow. Then he walked back to where the woman stood and put his arms around her, drawing her closely to him. Looking into her eyes, he whispered in his low, masculine voice “Would you like to go upstairs” She nodded, never taking her eyes from him and he smiled once again before pressing his lips to hers and kissing her. It was a kiss filled with passion and desire…the kind of kiss that she had longed for…had waited so long for.
He took her hand in his and they walked slowly toward the stairway that led to the loft. Reaching the top, she looked about, noting the airy feel of the sparsely furnished room… the skylights that punctuated the cedar planked roof, the vast glass wall of windows that looked out at the sloping woodland. Her eyes focused not on the windows but on the bed that sat directly in front of them…a huge rustic bed made of rough hewn birch logs.
Still clutching her hand, he walked towards the bed and sat down, guiding her down next to him. He wrapped his arms around her middle, drawing her close and kissed her again, running his hands lightly over the curve of her softly rounded stomach as he did so. She broke free from his kiss long enough to ask in her soft voice “would you like me to slip into something more comfortable?” He responded not with an answer but with another kiss, this time pressing his lips to her neck. He kissed her again and again, small butterfly kisses that led him to her ear. Pressing his mouth to her ear, he whispered in a nearly inaudible voice, “but then I wouldn’t get to undress you the way I’ve dreamed of doing.”
Just hearing him say those words sent a wave of excitement coursing through her body, for she had dreamed of that very thing…being undressed…being fondled lovingly. She snuggled closely, asking playfully “and how have you dreamed of undressing me?’ He moved his hand from her tummy to her neck before answering, “slowly…deliberately… as though I was unwrapping a beautiful Christmas present.” Then he moved his hand slowly to her chest and with his index finger began tracing a line down the center of her body. He inched down between her breasts to her abdomen, stopped and spread his hand out, feeling the invitingly soft flesh beneath her blouse before reversing and moving back up again, all the while kissing her. He moved his left hand to her lower back and without saying another word, lowered her to the bed. Her shoulder blades sunk into the sumptuous satin sheets and with his palm still pressed to her, she lay flat on her back. Vulnerable and yet trusting, she wondered what would come next…how would he kiss her…how would he undress her…how would he take her…what would it feel like when he entered her…
Questions she knew would soon be answered…..

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