The wonderful Cal decided to take a crack at describing a beautiful, sensual and spur of the moment blowjob, loosely based on the most recent update on The Art of Blowjob. Everyone has loved his wonderful erotica so far, so I hope you enjoy his beautiful words:
He walks into the room. She’s on her knees, waiting. She wants him. She’s hungry for him. She’s spent all day thinking about him, about what a perfect partner he is—compassionate, intelligent, respectful, strong. She’s been thinking about how much he loves her, how he’d do anything for her. She wants to thank him, to tell him that she feels exactly the same. She has a flower in her hair. She’s wearing black silk. She’s on her knees, waiting for his cock.
He sees her and instantly knows how she feels. He’s felt the same way all day—every little thing he’s done, or seen, or thought about has reminded him of her. The world has been filled with her softness, her gentleness, her artistry, her remarkable combination of refined elegance and spontaneous enthusiasm. She is a porcelain doll in a motorcycle jacket, a tech geek with the body of a pornstar. He knows she wants him. He knows what to do to make her happy.
He drops his pants.
She kisses his cock as though giving it a blessing. She kisses it right on the tip. He has just showered; he smells like shampoo with just a hint of vanilla. He places his hands on her head, runs his strong fingers through her thick wavy hair. She loves the feeling of his hands on her scalp. She takes his penis into her mouth.
Her mouth is warm. Her tongue is strong and slick. She curls it around the shaft of his penis while sucking gently inward, softly, tenderly encouraging him to grow. He grows. His penis swells between her lips, over her tongue, slowly filling her entire mouth. He grows from being soft and pliable to hard as a rock. His hardness says “I love you.” Her mouth replies “I love you more.”
She runs her hands up over his hips, over his abs, down together over his cock. She caresses his balls, feels them tighten with eager anticipation. Everything about him is perfect to her, and his perfection fills her with love and arousal. As if sensing her thoughts, he slides his hands down over her shoulders and over her gorgeous, full, luscious breasts. He lifts them slightly, cupping them, letting his thumbs massage gentle circles around her nipples. She closes her eyes and works magic on his cock.
Sliding her lips back and forth down his shaft, she swirls and curls her tongue over his head, teasing him, playing the tip of her tongue over the tip of his head, then sucking him deep to the back of her throat. Her fingers are firmly kneading his balls; her lips are dancing over the length of his cock; she is silently singing “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
He loves her. He knows what she wants, and he wants to give it to her. She wants the fullness of his orgasm in her mouth. She wants to taste the cream of his passion. She wants to consume him, to swallow him, to feel him inside her. He lets his love drop from his heart to his gut, and then down into the tightness of his balls. He lets his love fill his balls until they are ready to burst, then he lets it surge up and into his cock. Her lips tighten around him as he begins to pump, filling her mouth with explosion after explosion of his passion, his desire, his absolute unconditional love for her. His entire being is a cock in her mouth. All that he is lies throbbing between her lips, pouring forth hot creamy rivers of love.
She swallows him. She accepts him. She thanks him, and welcomes him. She sucks him empty, sucks him clean, sucks every last drop of cum from his body. She keeps his cock in her mouth as he slowly grows soft again, grows small, opens his eyes, sees the room, sees her before him, sees his penis still in her mouth, smiles at her beauty, smiles at her grace, says “I love you,” reaches down with a strong hand and tenderly lifts her to her feet.
They embrace, body into body. They are one.