Completing the Circle

Completing the Circle

    We meet in a darkened bar room. Your eyes sparkle like rose quartz. In the flickering light of the gas lamp I sit next to you. You pull the hem of your red dress up revealing your creamy muscular thighs. My eyes gaze across your body hungrily. You gaze at my male form outlined in tight jeans awash in shadows. You are my dark siren, your scarlet hair falling down across soft shoulders. Your sweet baby lips are so full, red, and generous. Your full breasts strain against the fabric of your blouse. You are like the statue of Aphrodite in the Metropolitan with your luscious curve of hips and cherubic cheeks.
    I am a writer whose well has dried, waiting to be filled by your sweet waters. You are my divine muse, perhaps an angel on a mission of mercy. My need for more than inspiration is evident in my eyes drinking in your beauty.
    Your eyes pull toward me so innocent and full of wonder. I see the mystery of the universe reflected in your rosy pools of light. Your eyes bewitch me as we exchange secret knowledge of
our mutual desire.
    Words are so unnecessary as I stand erect over you. You reach out your soft hand. I grasp it. You say, “Come. Follow me.” You securely lead me through the shadowy streets. You lead me on this journey to your private paradise.  You say, “Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly. Tis’ is the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.”
    “Haha. Now I’m getting cold feet.”
    “I was joking of course” she said.
    “I know. You don’t seem like a psychopath. In fact you seem quite normal.”
    “Oh don’t call me normal. I do have my dark side. But I’m harmless as a puppy dog.”
    “I trust you. You do have puppy dog eyes.”
    “Well monsieur, your eyes are beautiful. I can see forever reflected in them.”
    “Hey we just met. I’m getting a little jumpy.”
    “Oh don’t be. Would you like some tea?”
    “Well to tell you the truth I’m not thirsty.”
    “Well then let’s begin.”    
    Entering your lair, you close and lock the door behind us. My manhood quivers with anticipation. The illusion of your innocence evaporates as you press my body against the wall, pressing my legs apart with a deliberate thrust of your thigh. You pivot me. I raise my hands placing them submissively on the wall. You deftly grasp my zipper, tugging my pants down with deliberate force. I feel my trousers slide down till they fall in heap at my feet.
    I feel goose bumps erupt across my body, as your hand grasps my derriere tenderly eliciting sparks of pleasure with each stroke across my cheeks. “Have you ever been spanked by a woman other than your mother?” you ask as my mouth falls open in shock.
    I turn to transform this moment into a kiss but you hold my waist firm, your voice commanding, “Stay still.” I don’t know what’s in store for me,
you being a stranger cloaked in mystery. My body
quivers like a frightened buck. You gently unbutton my shirt, pulling it off, and baring my chest. You stroke each nipple, caressing them softly. My fears vanish as a familiar heat erupts from my crotch.
    You tug my briefs down leaving my baby bottom bare. I feel your hands caress my cheeks with motherly tenderness. Then I feel the stinging pleasure of your palms slapping my buns, each swat filled with loving desire. Tingling heat radiates through my bottom.
   I moan louder with each of your stinging hand kisses, feeling my cock throb pressed against the cold wall. I am so alive and secure and filled. I breathe to the rhythm of your hands, strumming my bottom in this erotic ritual of my submission.
    Finally the swats fade away replaced by your fingers. You gently penetrate my rear passage. Your other hand embraces my penis in a ring of fire. You squeeze my dick and coax it to fullness with the delicate brush strokes of your fingertips. The pattern of your fingers across my endowment leaves blazing paths of pleasure across my across
my manhood. You still fully clothed, me naked and vulnerable, I hear you unzipping your dress.  My heart beats faster, and sweat drips down my chest as I hear the rustle of your evening gown falling off.
    Your hands grasp my naked hips and turn me like a potter turning clay on a wheel. I am the clay you mold into the shapes of your desire. “I am your
vessel fill me” I whisper. We fall into one another.
    My burning skin feels so alive as you explore my
vibrating body strumming me like a violin. You are the maestro eliciting heavenly symphonies of desire from the taut instrument of my body.
    You lead me to the bed, stretching my arms
above my head. I see you fumbling in your purse.  My illusion of your innocence is long gone as I feel the cold metal rings of handcuffs on my wrists and hear the clink as I am secured to bedposts.    
    Blackness enfolds me as the blindfold is lowered across the windows of my eyes. I feel you tickle me with a feather on my oh so sensitive scrotum as I squirm with hunger. The feather is replaced by the wetness of your mouth, your lips enclosing my cock in a warm prison of pleasure.
    My hips writhe to the rhythms of Jazz music flowing from the stereo. My buttocks clench as I float in a sea of euphoria. My bottom is slick with my sweat pressed into the wet sheets. You kiss me wetting my lips with the taste of my own manhood.  
    I say, “Release me. I want to share with you the gift you bestowed on me.” I hear the rattle of my bonds being undone. I grasp your hips firmly in my hands, rotating you onto your back as your legs part for the offering. The circle nears completion.