#448) “My Fingers Itch!” #4

It doesn’t have to be a photo of a woman misbehaving to make my fingers itch, to make me want to spank her with a desire that is almost uncontrollable. I can have just as strong a reaction seeing a photo of a woman who is so beguilingly beautiful in some way that it makes my teeth ache, as well as my fingers itch. Such is the example featured above.
Imagine that you are just waking up, your mind has not completely transitioned from that ethereal dream state to reality, half-way between each, and you see and sense this…
The scent of gardenias blooming in the garden mixes with this enchantress’ natural perfumes and waif into through the window that she’s just opened. It is the end of summer, so the breeze that carries this intoxicating scent inside isn’t hot, it’s temperate, both warm yet cooling, signaling the start of fall.
The sun is up and shining in the sky, but it, too, is not strong, glaring, or oppressive. It’s softly filtered, giving the complexion of her tanned skin an inner glow. At the same time, her full moon is rising. Do you know the term “lunatic?” It refers to be heavily influenced by the cycles of our moon’s lunar cycles. Clearly, her full moon is worth worshiping just as devoutly as our star, the sun! Her moon is in the house of Gemini; look at those twin orbs, so spherical and round and hypnotizing. I can barely restrain myself from howling like a wild wolf at this sight. I can barely restrain myself from leaping out of bed to bite her buttocks. I’m salivating as I lick her roundness; I sense that my sex is just as wet. I seize the tiny string of her thong in my teeth and wrench it down. It doesn’t come down easily, so tightly is it wedged up between her fulsome cheeks, so moist is her own sex, holding it in place. But bare her butt I do, and then caress her in circles. Her flesh is like this autumn morning, both cool to the touch but warming my heated desires.
My fingers itch, I have to spank her. Hoping that she’ll understand these gnawing desires inside me, I whisper in her delicate ear, “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world! I can’t help but pummel this perfect butt, however…” as I hold her down over the windowsill and start smacking her bum. She giggles and shrieks in surprise at first, but as the heat builds, she can’t help but mew and moan. I turn it into a harvest moon, red and glowing. I smell her fertile scent, watch her sex swell between her thighs. I want to plant a seed within her, fertilize her, but I’m a stamened flower like she is.
I call to my lover, who is still sleeping where I was on the floor.
“Robert, look what I have for you… Arise, my love. Rise to the occasion, help me seduce her, breed her…”
She looks back at us, smiles invitingly before I cover her mouth with mine. I undo her lacy bra and let her titties fall free, as unfettered as mine, as I press my length against her front, nipples to nipples, lips to lips. Robert presses his length to her dorsal side, slides the length of his pistil-pistol-penis into her from behind. He’s fully loaded, long-barreled, smoking hot. We sandwich her between us, hands all over her, devouring her. Robert fires his shot, causing her to climax, too. She expires from the little death, passes out in our arms. We lay her down on the bed we just vacated. Instead of trying to revive her with pats on her facial cheeks, I crawl to her other end, pat these cheeks, softly at first, but increasingly harder as she comes-to, gaining consciousness like a drugged she-wolf who has just been collared for observation. She attacks the two of us, like the leader of the pack that she is, with her mouth and teeth, her paw-like hands and claw-like nails, all of her sexy sexual orifices, where we enjoy her, alternately and in unison, all day and late into the night.
Sometime during the night, she slinks away, out of our room and out of our lives, just as she had entered. Silently, stealth-fully with silken silver hair. I awaken the next dawn, wondering if I had dreamed about the moon outside our window and the wolf in our bed. I am about to awaken Robert to ask him what he knows of all this, when I see in the faint light that he is covered with scratches, especially all over his broad back. I wonder if I’ve done this to him, when I see that I, too, am scratched-up, especially all over my butt and breasts and thighs! I look at my fingernails, bitten down to the quick out of nervousness, as I remember her painted, long talons. Was raw-dogging her sex like a bite from a werewolf for my beloved? Is he doomed?
“This is why threesomes are so dangerous!” I scream.
Suddenly, Robert is consoling me, sitting up next to me, holding my sweaty form, kissing away my tears. It is pitch dark outside, except for that luminous silvery moon. I look at our bodies, each unmarked with no trace of lattice-like cuts. It was all a dream, a nightmare. I leap out of bed, close and lock the shutters. Jumping back into Robert’s arms, I close my eyes just as tight, but all I can see behind my eyelids is a full, hypnotic moon. We spoon against one another, and I am reassured by his erection.
Pressing my ass against his groin, I plead, “Fuck the bad dream out of me…” and we join and set an infinitesimally slow pace as lovers.

(When I first saw the photo featured above, it haunted me, keeping me from sleep all that night, keeping me from thinking about anything else all the next day. Writing this story is an attempt at exorcism. Do not stare at the pictured woman’s derriere for too long at any one time, I beg you. Learn from my terrible mistake; that path leads to ruin!)

3 responses to “#448) “My Fingers Itch!” #4”

  1. It is definitely a sight that lingers on and on.
    Your descriptive skills are really good! The similes and metaphors and large vocabulary enrich your story greatly and the pic definitely doesn’t hurt. Thanx bunches for the post and pic ! (Pardon me as I wash my eyes in order to try to remove that picture.)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks paddlefan & Sophie! Paddlefan, good luck with the eye-washing. I just had my mouth soaped and my bottom paddled for all it was worth. So, hopefully, we’re both in a better place now! Sophie, I wasn’t aware I could choose NOT to bring my bottom to a situation… Lord knows, my butt has gotten me into trouble, so I’d like to be able to arrive without that baggage at times. My mind (and words) sometimes write a check that my ass has to then painfully cash…
      All my best to both of you!
      Warmly,
      Jean Marie

      Like

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