It was selected with
chosen above all the others.
carried by hand
set gently at your door.
White for the innocence,
purity and truthfulness
that overflowed from
my heart and soul.
I only wanted you to know...
I know in my heart and soul that you are the only one
I'll ever need and want.
You keep me going in good times and bad.
You make me feel things I never felt before.
You make me see things I never saw.
You make me sigh about life.
You let me be who I am...and accept me.
You are my best friend.
You are my only love...before, now, and forever.
You are with me everyday.
You are in every heartbeat.
You are the sunlight in the morning.
You are the moonlight at night.
You are in every sound that I hear.
You are everything to me.
In my dreams
I pictured a person
strong and wise
who would completely
can be just
I did not really expect
to find one person
who had all these
But then --
I met you
and not only did you
bring back my
belief in dreams
but you are even
than my dreams
By Susan Polis Schutz
- Crystal Dream -
I have a crystal ball, about 3 inches in diameter. Occasionally, I stare at it for hours, becoming lost with my lustful thoughts deep in the bubbly crystal core. A few days ago, I was lying on the floor, on my stomach, with a pillow supporting my chest while I leaned on my elbows. You walked in the room, wearing your work clothes. I rolled over and tried to playfully sneak a peek up your skirt to see if your were wearing any panties, but the room was too dark and my eyes too weak.
Fatigued, you staggered over and crashed down on the couch. After getting up and returning with a nice steaming cup of peach-spice tea, I slid back down on the floor again. You are stretched out on the couch, your legs extend away from the couch. Your quads are striated and huge,
calling for my surrender.
I watch your sensual movements, your toes as they flexed inside your black stockings, your muscular thighs tense and dangerously hard ... your red-painted toe nails barely visible through the silk stockings ...
all of these things aroused me intensely. We talked about our days, and about other mundane things. In the meantime, my hand was carelessly rolling the ball around on the floor.
You slithered your leg over and wrested control of the crystal sphere from me with your foot. I took this opportunity to sneak another glance, and this time I can see you are not wearing any underwear. In my throat, the murmur of a growl wants to escape. As you drag the ball away from me, you accidentally press the sole of your foot onto the ball, and emit a serendipitous moan of pleasure as the force of the ball against your foot releases some tension.
You start rolling the ball around with your stocking feet. I watch intently as your toes spread out and try to engulf the entire diameter of the sphere. The tendons connecting your toes to your leg stand out markedly as you continue to roll the ball around. I watch the contorted reflection of your black, sheer feet through the crystal.
Your calves bulge, rock-hard, and your thighs leap up and relax alternately while your feet press hard into the massaging and relaxing orb. I catch myself gently humping the floor as I watch this intoxicating sight. You always make sure I have a PERFECT view of your legs all through the 'show.' I moan softly, never uttering a word - the intense erotic implications of your feet manipulating the hard crystal sphere is driving me wild.
Unable to stand the erotic agony any longer, I throw myself to my knees
and crawl over to where you sit. Your legs playfully open to allow my
hips in close to your body. There is barely time between touch and the
time we merge our bodies. Only the most subtle movements ... this is
not sex, this is intimacy at its MOST pure...
"and now, all I want to do is slip into something that would make mortal men drop to their knees in prayer," she said. Her faded jeans were friendly, if nothing else, and anyone who looked at them would never suspect the transparent nylon panties that were impossibly tight. There was no evidence that she was wearing anything under her jeans. The rust coloured Calvin Kleins showed everything, but under her favourite jeans, exquisitely stressed and gently ripped, she was slipping and sliding against the tough denim, despite the fact that her perfect muscles strained against the fabric.
Her stockings felt strangely cool and frictionless underneath. Occasionally, she would look down and gape hungrily at the evident garter snap resting on her thigh. Everyone could see the snaps. Everyone knew she was shameless. Everyone saw her naked ... and she adored the adulation.
She would flex her thigh to make the clasp more evident. A subtle difference in moral altitude, but to the trained eye, it was Mount Everest. Her quads were perfect.
Someone came in to her office and she would sit on the edge of her desk. The clasp that held her stockings up dug into her flesh, reminding her of her apetite. She was certain the intruder would notice and she desperately wanted them to.
Casually, she raised the hem of her jeans so that anyone with at least one eye could see the silky shimmer that wrapped around her ankles. "Goddamn it, look at this exquisite bondage you blind idiot!"
She was calm, except for the beating of her heart. If she sucked back a gulp of coffee, the acid might turn her guts inside out. If she shifted her weight on her desk, she might cum. If she spoke, her office intruder would hear her heart pounding in her throat.
How desperately she wanted to scream so that her heartbeat could be heard modulating her voice. Instead, she remained silent, nodding in agreement, feeling the intense flush of heat against her cheeks ...