Potential Lovers
by Sascha the Sensual ©2000

How candid these two are about their sexuality as to be so cavalier about where they play. One would think upon first glance these two had done plenty enough to enjoy each other's company that they would eventually get sick and turn the other way, yet they always held hands at school, were constantly on the phone and planned escapades of weekend sexual play. She was slightly older than he was; owned a place of her own with allowed them recurring weekend flings in private, and his grades appeased his parents thus allowing him their trust for these weekends away at her apartment. Everything was impeccable for these weekend trysts.

She, a working girl, possessed the necessary income for them to explore their intimacy through invitation of new ideas, toys and the like. He was openly game because he had discovered a new world that had no boundaries. They worked so well together. Neither knew if they were friends that felt the need to be lovers on occasion, or lovers who tried hard to realize friendship. Close friends held the theory that they were just using friendship to cloak a passionate sex life.

These two worked so well because they were very emotional; it was honest emotion. Such was the affection of these two that they cared not who heard them; that was part of the game. Sometimes this turned out to work against them but such was rare. Usually if she were hot, enough she would pull him aside and whisper those improper thoughts into his ear. He would reply with "I'd love to bury my head in your thighs and taste your little cunnie sweet woman."

His deliverance of the line was such that would push her to allow her wanton feelings to come about, though she sometimes found it required to restrain herself. The first moment she could get him away to any secluded place and beg for his tongue in her little cunnie. She would have no other, his skills were unmatched and only getting better as they both kept an ear in the erotic literature scene as well. They were not the ones who knew how the French were doing it; they were part of the scene.

No one would discover them, though part of the fun was in the moment of being caught. Several times he would bring her to multiple orgasms with his tongue and finger combination and then as soon as he felt appropriate, dress her back up, cuddle her and promise more on the weekend. Regularly he would put aside his own needs and pleasures to hold out, teach his body the tricks and further please his lover. She would question this only afterwards, when she had come down enough and was quiet in his arms. He would reply with, "I need not always get off, and part of the enjoyment is in your eyes my Sweet."

His statements meant the world to her yet she truly knew not what to do with them save a smile. He understood.

The stamina on holding out served a great purpose on those weekend sexcursions when they would play all day and well into the night. His motions along in hers would build up until finally a few times he would release in her, moan out her name even still in his soft tone, and then fall limp from head to toe so she could coddle him. His doing this and she slowly began to understand him as they played more often enhanced her pleasure.

Since meeting his mistress, his sexual prowess had become even greater; her friends knew how flagrant they both were. During the escapades, they had grown to learn a great deal about each other. She had taught him a deeper level of passion, more emotion and joy and most important, to enjoy life itself for what it is. He had taught her to enjoy herself more, how to teach newfound sexual games to both and he gave her the closeness that women look for after lovemaking. They both had become relaxed in their sexuality, comfortable with each other on many levels. They had pulled great things from each other that many would never reach but only dream of. When apart though, both wondered if love were involved on a deeper level than they were both willing to admit.

Some say hot passion stirs from anger and bitterness over a past filled with lots of sexual energy and bittersweet memories. The angry passion filled woman demands pleasure from a stranger's cock and returning it equally becomes another thing. If perhaps we were to remove the bitterness and replace it with a childlike curiosity for question and exploration then sexuality would better suit us. This would also best suit the two lovers better than any amount of anger and hatred for all hatred does is take away the truth, mask it somehow and hurt others deeply.

This couple I do believe to be in love with sex, life and mostly, each other. Perhaps that is the way it was intended to be.

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Copyright (2000) by Sascha