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Creative Chamber II

It's all about the getting there, the slow burn!
Accoutrements… it's all about the ambience, the window dressings, the allure, the tease. Awareness of self, confidence, care of self, appreciating the gifts one is endowed with. A willingness to share with vigor and potency, uninhibited doesn't hurt. THIS dear reader was the stark difference, the dramatic contrast between two women in my life.

On the one hand I faced denial and ice. On the other I faced revival and dice. What do I mean "dice"? Easy… it would be a roll of the dice, considering whether to go down this road or not, and the resulting benefits or consequences. My inner fire was running low on fuel. Suck me! This just wouldn't do.

I needed something, someone to reignite my thruster. I needed a muse to reenergize my creative spirit. Besides, my self pleasuring and fantasies were getting to be the only intimacy I knew anymore. Oh I could wander my paw, taking my own measure like a champ, trust me. I knew the benefits of Kegel exercises as well as anyone, and made damn certain I practiced.

I approached my princely pole with adoration and due reverence, carefully orchestrating a cadence and effect to bring myself to the brink, and then ease back, bring myself to the height of majesty, then float back to a smoldering wane, learning there was no elixir syrup as well suited for lubrication than nature's own. The glistening escape of pre-cum always paved the way for absolute nirvana. K-Y? Not even close. I loved that slickness, and used it to great effect.

My prowess was not to be diminished, I swore an oath to self. I would continue to fuck myself and imagine all the most blissful scenarios available to my lush sensual imaginings. My cock was above average based on photos I saw. Erotic scenes played out before my eyes from without (thanks Lush) and from within. The scenes I concocted… hmmmm…. conCOCKted might be more appropriate… anyway, my own pageants proved the most demure of all.

I discovered that the more I practiced control, the stronger my explosive effusive projections were. Hell, it was as if I possessed a mini Old Faithful of my own, I don't mind admitting. Talk about a geyser… suck me!

I also discovered that if I caressed my perineum, followed by my rectum, and finish off with stroking my prostrate… all while lovingly pumping my piston with careful control and timing, I could shoot to the fucking moon, and often find myself growing stimulated and my measure expanding again within a very short time period. In fact just thinking about this has me on the brink of taking a break in the next couple of minutes… ok… discipline… discipline! I'll have to work at my typing skills I guess -- you know, to where I can just as furiously type one handed as I can furiously pump my manly engorged piston with the other. Maybe I just need an assistant editor. Suck me!

So… by now you might be wondering whatever happened to the "other" in my life, in this chapter. Patience dearie, it's all in the ride, in the slow arcing curves, the slow burn, the "getting there", which is the whole point of this exercise. She is here, there… out there, trust me. I've met her. Met her in dreams, met her in life. She was the extreme opposite of what I had ever known, and finally my own patience was about to pay off.

The years I had spent visualizing, manifesting, honing my skills and sculpting my frame, were about to offer a ripe harvest. She was all-in when it came to matters of matching my own acute desires and needs. Not only that, but she could write with the best of them, and she was creative in other matters. She also shared many of the same appreciations for the senses, including but not limited to music. She was aware of the energy and flow that erupted from our "centers". She was the one I desired to build a "center" of another type with, as earlier mentioned. She appreciated the slow in all accord, especially in sensual matters.

She fed my appetite for more than even I imagined and brought to the table a collection of fantasies and heat beyond my wildest dreams. She knew the fine art of window dressing, and the tease, the allure. She shared openly in my ear her deepest dreams and fantasy scenarios. She was the first I'd felt open enough with (while we read to each other some of each other's work), to openly caress myself, encouraging her to do the same. I felt liberated, totally free to be myself for the first time in my life.

How I loved to watch her hand traverse her frame slowly caressing her own full and ample breasts, moving down towards her intensely inflamed mons, sometimes with the guidance of my own hand. How I reveled in the uptick in her breathing as I read her my explicit rapturous expressions, and noted her dilated pupils as her eyes followed the self manipulations of my strong masculine hand, taking my own measure and very slowly caressing the growing throbbing cock beneath my tight jeans.

She would softly moan, as if she were being drawn down a vortex, barely audible mews, clearly drowning in desires of her own, pent up needs bursting to surface and express what she yearned for nightly while lying alone, needy, lost in fantasies of her own languid creations. She would lean over and softly lick at my ear or neck, whispering something beyond an intelligible audible, but never-the-less sensual, sexy. I knew it was something filthy, best of all.

I remember moving her hand for her, as she gradually drove her fingers deeper into the folds of her clothing, and remember well guiding her hand from her own frame to my thigh, and encouraging a slow traverse upward towards the goal of possessing my convulsing arousal. I could feel the pre-cum at my tip at such times. I could smell her musk, alluring, heady, potent. Her words whispered would become more distinguishable as time moved forward in a seeming vacuum.

"I want to see you fucking another while I watch... a woman! Does that shock you my love? Maybe eventually join in? Would that give you great pleaure baby? Would that be ok with you?"

SUCK ME!

Or something along the lines of:

"I want to arrange a harem for you lover. Several young nubile virgins, red lacy nighties, dreamy and languidly lounging, awaiting your approval and attention."

Or something more poignant to the "now":

"Fuck baby, you feel so ready, so wanting. I can sense the need lover. Can you feel my heat darling? Do you know how badly I want to unbuckle and unbutton you, strip you down, and go down on you? Do you realize how many nights I've lied awake tossing and turning, imagining having you for the entire night, working you over GOOD, baby? I want to suck you off darling… NOW!"

Oh yes dear reader, this lady know how to push my buttons, how to activate my heat seeking bunker busting missile silo. She would be cranking away on me as she whispered., but with such finesse, such skill. I'd sometimes guide her hand lower as I would accommodate her by slightly raising my hips. I would guide my own hand down to her ass and start to press a finger to her sphincter, to give her the hint of what I myself was looking for. She always took the hint. Suck me!

She would let out a groan and moan, and turn to my ear again, licking, nibbling, breathing her warm inviting breath into it, whispering unintelligible rumblings again, but sexy as hell, decadent by all means. I would return the favor, running my tongue along her neck, exposed shoulder, delicate ears, murmuring my earnest most desires and yearnings for her to consider, activate.

I would skillfully orchestrate the pace of all of this, careful to hold it to a smoldering slow reveal, slow unveiling, slow burn. I have come to appreciate the greatest joy of reveling in... engaging in... focusing on the "now". I have come (cum) to realized that it's the "getting there" that allows the "there" to be so much more intense and pleasurable. The awe and tension, the gradual build up, creates a fire and anticipation that guarantees a gratification rarely realized or explored.

Life forced these lessons on me, or presented them as "gifts". Taking each curve with an expectation that to carve it well, on the edge, gracefully, fully, would lead to a thrill unattainable before such knowledge seeped in. Best of all I learned the excitement of not being able to see what lie ahead, but anticipating only good things, that "awe" I just mentioned. Once the straight bores it's full view ahead of me, I opened the throttle and give life my all, pistons pumping, pounding steady and true, leading me to a new adventure… and possibly YOU!

To be continued… see you on the other side of the curve! ;-)

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.


Continue reading Creative Chamber (Part One)

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