She tried

Laday Gaga/Bang La Decks / Ken Roll - THE UTOPIAN AURA

She tried.  Tried to hide the passion she longed to hear.  The touch.  The dwell.  His heated lips rising to hers.  She longed to hear the justification of her desire: burning.  Feeling the return of his passion smoldering trace across her lips laden with desire.

The feel of his desire burning trace along his the glancing touch, the furtive passion burning.  The slow rise in his grip from her hips across the soft heat rising from her stomach so tight.   Pressing up, towards, his rise.  The glance, the burn, the desperation fulfilled from his touch across the swell of skin longing too long to feel his press.

Her soft heat rising.  His hard reply pressing.  Her lips so full, so burning, waiting to be filled by the touch of him against her.  Her passion inflamed by the circling kisses upon her neck.  Burning to the touch.  The slow advance.  His lingering around the bottom of her neck.  Drawing, inflaming, building the desire for touch along her skin.  His hands gentle caress under, the pulling draw, around the colored ring, the trace across the gentle texture rising to his touch.  Waiting for his advance soft sure in circling draw.  Ever closer, ever just a seeming unbearable absence from: they connection desired.  The circling press towards the center as his kiss rose.

His hand meanwhile slid down.  The grab across.  The fullness pressed against him.  The grab, the draw, the pull for the press.  He felt the pull of her heat.  Her longing to engulf him.  To surround him as the bodies joined.  The slight circling of her his.  Her invitation slight, as her smoldering grew into an inferno.  Her subconscious invitation. Join in the primitive dance primordial.

The contact of lips to lips she felt undoubted the response of his desire.  How it longed to burn in her.  In the language unspoken his words were heard loudest of all.  The rise of his touch, teasing, pleasing her tender points rising of her own.  Standing firm to feel each glance, each brush that swept, crossing, drawing, across her zone.  Forbidden, in its limits to others, but not to him; never.  Sparks excitedly lept from his fingertips to the tips of her desire

All the while his kisses left her mouth and began a further trace down.  Though her eyes were closed, she leaned forward into each and every advance made.  They began with the parting at the front.  His hands left her for only a moment to part the mask, the snaps of fabric that hid her beauty.  She had used it to protect herself from the shadowmen, but now she longed to reveal herself to him.

The glory of her burning revealed itself, soft, to slow to his kisses burning.  As his mouth began its slow advance she felt the slow press of his burning desire rise across hier inner thigh.  Rising. As his circling kisses drew closer, ever closer.  In his gentle puck, his soft engulfing surrounding tug and pull, she burned with desire.

A desire reflected in his rise, ever advancing, ever retreating, ever waiting.  Till, the moment came;  she felt his touch rise along her thigh.  Ever higher, ever rising the heat of her flame as it grew, as it drew, closer to her epicenter.  The source, the target, that could only be quenced in the touch, the taste, the real.  The soft bucking of her hips against his rise. Beckoning, waiting, always for the burn to be destroyed in the consuming heat of him.  Till then, she would wait, or... at least she tried.