My eyes are all glazed. Your eyes have caught me in its hypnotic spell. I look at the lust and love, in that order, in your eyes and mine have misted. These are tears of happiness, tears that do not drop, tears that glisten as a pristinely transparent layer of sheer lust, pure, unadulterated, divine lust. They resonate with each other’s intensity. It’s a magical moment. As your fingers involuntarily attempt to rid me of my pants, your nails grazing the skin, ever-so-lightly, pausing a wee bit longer and then pulling the zip down, slowly. Your body presses towards me slightly, and the pant falls down gathering around my ankles. One of your arms circles my waist, tugging me inside, just about, but your eyes are still holding mine, like the proverbial feline tigress captivating its prey in that frozen moment, as you slide that palm of yours over my briefs….

Your breasts are heaving, your eyes transfixed, your mouth open and your lips are dry. The lipstick now all red, purple and burgundy, cracking in places like chasms waiting to be filled in with either words or kisses. You don’t care. You do not want to loose this moment. You know its something special; you don’t let me move, as if even a routine movement of freeing my legs of shoes and pants will break the trance. With our eyes smiling in a manner that only lovers understand, nostrils flared, your body quivering, you are radiating a spoor of desire, love, and devotion that blends with our mixed scent; my cologne and your perfume. I can smell you, your womanly smell. It’s heady. I take it in; the aroma, audibly, like a shark sensing blood, you are almost quaking, shivering with pure desire.

As your fingers weave their way in and out of the chamois leather string tied to a soft muslin sack trying in vain to contain my raging hard on, scratching each quiver of my skin with your nails, a voice rises from inside of you – almost guttural, a whisky-n-cigarette husky sound, coming straight from your guts, you have no control over the words… “Jeff, my darling, I don’t know what this is, I don’t know what it means, I don’t care where it leads, all I know is that at this moment, at this point of time, there is nothing in the world I would want more than this. This is spiritual, it’s almost as if I have met my God and I would like to become one with God. Feels like almost Nirvana to me. Feels like I have met my destiny, if I don’t have you tonight, I would be standing up my karma.”

“I am so sexed up, my darling; it’s as if the entire womanhood of this universe has decided to satiate its lust through me. Each moment, each tiny second feels like an eternity of orgasm. I have met my Man, my Lover, my God, my Destiny. Ohh yes, tonight I’m gonna pay homage to all my pent up desires of a lifetime. Tonight I’m gonna chant mantras to my religion, I want to rape you, I want to devour you, I want to use you, abuse you, maul you, love you, worship you, eat you, lick you, mate with you, make love to you, and fuck you… Tonight you are my whore, baby, you are my slave and my master, my fucktoy, my baby, my animal, my illicit desire, my filthy fantasies, my bastardo, and my God as well…. All in one. You are mine Jeff, just mine, to do with you as I please, all you need to do is just continue looking at me like that… God baby, there is so much love in those eyes of yours, they look so deep, so enchanting, so intense, so pure, so lustful, so desirous, you don’t even have to say anything, God baby, your eyes are saying it all – You do love me don’t you… my sweet little bastardo….

“Well not so little, I stand corrected,” you tease and that’s when your eyes move for the first time away from mine. You place both your palms and begin tracing each throbbing vein of my dick through the thin muslin with your nails, touching the naked smooth skin; you love my smooth shaven crotch. You are about to tear the wrap out when you shake your head in denial, reaching out for the bottle of wine.

“Gratitude,” is what I say, stepping out of the trousers, kicking my shoes off and in one motion throwing the socks as well. The candles flicker brightly and as you bring the bottle closer, the light silhouettes my cock making a cone out of my home-made briefs. You glance down and start pouring the wine down my neck, my chest, scooping it with one hand and directing it towards the briefs. There’s hardly any wine left in the bottle, my entire body is goose pimpled…

“What! Did ya just say Gratitude, love?” you ask, Your eyes follow the wine trail. Your lapping tongue follows in hot pursuit.

“Yes, gratitude love, gratitude is what I feel. Gratitude is what my eyes are misting over. This night seems to be a gratitude to the love Gods. It’s indeed holy, it’s an ode to Cupid, Psyche, Aphrodite, Venus, Isis, Kama, and all other Gods who have ever celebrated or defined love. Tonight the two of us, darling, will pay homage to all the eternal love stories of this world and the other…”

You are wanton by now. It’s like that scene from A Fish called Wanda where Jamie Curtis is getting turned on by Russian phonetics. You are almost growling, a deep rumbling growl, almost feral in nature, whose pitch is gradually increasing, the sound is not from your vocal chords, it’s from your heart, your guts, almost a soul-wrenching guttural cry to be devoured and devour.

While your hands scoop up the wine and direct it towards the muslin sock, blood red in color almost radiating translucently against the candle lights, your mouth sucks the wine from the insides and your palms are against my skin, neither you nor I can take it anymore. You’ve had enough, you slide my briefs down and slowly slide your body up, against mine, skin to skin, pore to pore, against a deeply staining wine, coloring our skins in that rich heady blood like wine, your mouth splattered in red, splashes on your face nostrils flaring, eyes wanton with lust and desire.

You push me down against the stark white bed, I fall, almost in slo-mo, carrying your body with mine. You taste the wine against my hardness, lick it, lap it, slurp it, suck it and tease it down inside the folds of my jewels, right to the smooth patch just before the butt. You don’t spend too long, your growls are still emanating, deep and guttural, you know I’m at my edge; I too have started growling in the same key in complete resonance with yours. You glide your way up; I am at the zenith of my hardness. The tautness of that raging hard-on is indescribable. You feel the lust, taut and stretched beyond measure, as you slowly sink yourself impaling me inside you.

I’m rendered speechless. All my concentration is in that yoni, that sweet delicious pussy that matrix of generation, the Universal Vulva, the source of strength to the entire humanity. I’m savouring the feel of friction against your walls. The tip of my cock is groping each tribulation, each nerve of the walls, as my entire being, my id, my self is entering and absorbing yours. Words can attempt to do a poor justice…

You start sliding and gliding against my smooth skin lubricated voluptuously by the wine almost swaying like the motion of a saw, screaming with each forward move as you arch your back, raising your arms through your backward move, giving me a whiff of your scented pheromones your smooth underarms, hair flying wildly against the candle lights, face turned inwards in repose, while ,my hardness traces the oscillation inside the entire ;length and curve and delicate twists of your pussy…

Baby, this is got to be heaven… You are chanting “Omigod, OmiJeff, O Gawd, O My Love,” like a litany, there’s a constant stream of throaty O baby’s streaming from me as well… You are by now almost sliding from a bit above my knees to almost my navel, the wine swishing and swirling, lubricating the galloping torsos in wild abandon. Each movement is like a whirlwind culmination of a lifetime of lusts, craving for more; you and I both keeping pace with the pent up desires of the entire universe step by step… and beyond. While thrashing, a finger touches the remote. The deep baritone of Leonard Cohen starts whispering oh-so-loudly compellingly driving the words to us. Your face breaks into that O-my-god-this-must-be-a-sign kind of smile as your pace increases and eyes a glaze getting into that euphoric, consummation of love, lust, desire and togetherness (yes, in that order) while Cohen croons
































“O THAT’S BEAUTIFUL God I’m cumming my darling… “ as your Kegel kicks into action.

“O MAMA,” is all that hiccupped out of me when I too erupted….

(yet, this ain’t the end)

The post coital warmth between Jeff and Shuch flirts with love, books, arts, philosophy, erotica, even porn, and kind of attempts to define a relationship based on erotica and their ultimate purpose in life… Well, that’s another story some day, if I can successfully justify and integrate the erotica in the self discovery of Jeff and Shuch!



SERPENT WRAP
September 2010

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