Date: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 01:06:21 -0700 From: tt hh <97319137a@gmail.com> Subject: The Thrill Of New Kink The Thrill Of New Kink by Eroticlit There are many ways to explain what I was thinking afterwards, everything from bliss to insanity. All over my skin she had left me reminders of her passion, her wonderfully debonair approach to masochism had been something of mystery and suggestion until now. She gave me glimpses into her dark mind, preview in comments and messages about the little girl inside that went to bed every night praying that her lord would grant her horns instead of wings. Beauty to her was second nature. She could make an old man lose his thought with just a glint from her dark eyes. Soft skin and a smile that makes girls jealous and boys envious, Olive and sinister with a glow I couldn't figure out, now in retrospect it was the heat of her secrets begging to be let free. I had never thought that her beauty would ever find my eye, she had always been there the way that a song from your youth sits in the back of your mind. You know the lyrics and artist but have never listened to the words, explored the dark poetry that could tear your heart apart. She literally was the girl next door, for years another man called her his own, but I never saw this fire in her until now. Either I wasn't looking hard enough or at the proper angle to see it, or she grew into this woman that would eventually tear my heart apart night after night organically. She was the girl in our circle that you could depend on for a laugh and a kind ear. Ragged on the edges, smiling after a youth that would bring you to your knees. Darkness was a part of her from what I saw, but I only saw how she was going about hiding that darkness, not using it as camp fuel. Looking back to a time where we were acquaintances that followed the formality of friendship, we had never spent hours messaging each other about all the kinks and misdeeds that have been fueled by pure passion with other lovers. Acts of voyeurism and debauchery that were swapped like the trading cards of children. We never came together on a cold afternoon with nerves and anticipation turning us into bumbling romantics preparing for an event that would prove the baseline for where we could go. I had never kissed her, tasting her lips, feeling her teeth biting my lip. I would have never thought to pull her tight to me with my knee between her legs as we found our rhythm with our lips. She would have never put a hand on my throat, pointed nails making my flesh white with pressure. She would have never leaned into my hand as I slapped her ass, would have never said 'again' hoarsely in my ear. Years had past, I had all but forgotten this beautiful girl with coal black hair and a smile that reminds you of better days and warmer nights. Her smile could have it's own wing at the Louvre. How our paths crossed is a flurry of happenstance, we had been so close to each other for a long time but didn't even know we were near. Our separate paths had taken us to new places and it was in this unfamiliar place that we simply fell into each others orbits. At first she didn't recognize me, I had grown from the naive boy she had known. She had grown into a woman that I would have killed to get to know. She had this new fire about her, gone was the timid and cautious bride. Before me was a powerful force that screamed in my face that she was everything that I could imagine. From the preview of cleavage to the unknown under her skirt, I was undressing her and feeling every inch with my mind. When I thought back to this girl I knew, back when we were try-out philosophers drinking discount wine I never thought that she would be the one to break the barrier. I couldn't have imagined that she would pull the straps from her shoulders and give me the full view I had been seeing in my sleep. I had never thought of what her chest would feel like as I brushed my hand across her nipple, or what she would do if I took it between forefinger and thumb pressure until she winces. Would she close her eyes and moan? We would have never joked about her sitting back on my couch, arms across the back in a 1950's pinup pose smiling the devils grin. She would have never lifted her skirt to show me her last mystery. I must digress for there are details that I have missed for the sake of literary climax. This girl, this enigma that I had found myself lusting after was never supposed to be. At least I had relegated my own sexual being into this vanilla wash of silence and fantasy. I was so overwhelmed by the sense of defeat after countless failings and missed attempts to find someone that could challenge my own dark interior. Hidden in a world of expected circumstance I had become a hermit in my own sexual drive. I put any veering from the expected into my back pocket like a receipt in case I ever had the chance to return my misery for something raw again. When she appeared, I almost didn't believe the circumstances. She knew more about who I wanted to be than any of the test-a-wives that I tried to fit myself with in the past. I had never imagined her on her back with her wrists bound to her ankles. She would have never thought she would be in her evening dress, hem lifted to her navel with her eyes on mine wondering what would happen next. Comments, reviews or critiques welcome. Email me at 97319137a@gmail.com -Eroticlit