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His & Her Sex Perspectives

 man looking at woman, silhouette, His & Her Attraction Perspectives

Erotic Story Submitted By Anonymous Guest Author

From Him:

The meeting was boring, and my mind wandered as the contemplation of The aspects of foreign affairs faded from my attention span. She captivated me instantly. I watched her before I approached her as a predator focuses and locks on to his prey. Somehow she captured my attention; the connection was made, and now it was impossible for me to break away.

She had my attention, and I knew it was her intention. I resisted at first, but her power over me was too great. The predator had become the prey. We were locked in the psychic tendrils of two strong wills. I met him at a seminar just the other day on foreign affairs. He had that certain quality that I admire and the confidence to hold my attention. She spoke with confidence, and her gaze was locked with mine as she told me of her interest in the foreign affairs program.

My interest was as far from foreign affairs interest as possible as I feigned interest in her commentary and inhaled the light intoxicating scent of her perfume. I suggested that a conference at a hotel so near the beach was a temptation we should not ignore. He listened intently when I spoke.

A man like any other, I suppose. I agreed to go down on the beach and enjoy a break from the businesslike tedium that made up my day. We set off for the beach, looking for that special stretch of sand that spoke our language. I spread the flowing bright magenta-colored silk over a sheltered sandpit. The bright yellow and blue butterflies mingled with a black and orange flock woven into the fabric that scintillated in the sun as if they were alive. Close to them, the surf crashed against the rocks, and the foamy waves curled toward us on the sand.

I wanted the location to be secretive, and yet I chose it carefully so that I could further inspect this most beautiful creature that had come into my life so gracefully. I needed to touch her and feel her warmth next to mine.

I drank in her magnificence and reveled in her presence. I could not stop looking at her and tried to break the symphony of the sounds: the wind and the surf with a humorous anecdote just to see her beaming smile. She said something funny to me; I squinted at him against the glaring sun. For a long time, she stood there, just staring at me.

From Her:

No man had ever looked at me and admired me as he. Consciously I closed my eyes and smoothed my hair in the breeze. I wanted his attention and wanted him to know how much I appreciated him. I could not stand the intensity of the moment. As she looked away, I quietly walked to the ocean. I felt the cool water splashing on my feet and legs.

The sea did little to quench the fire that was burning in my mind now. When I opened them again to see what he was doing, he had disappeared. Why was he acting so strangely? Why was he tormenting me? What did he intend to do? Suddenly my years turned back to fourteen. A mythical chorus of aunts and teachers and novelists were whispering unforgettable precautions: Never be alone with a stranger. Never take your clothes off. Never give in to lust. Never trust a man. Never travel alone to the ocean shore. Never go to the beach by yourself, accompanied by a handsome man at twilight. The water parted around me as I pushed the waves aside.

I walked on the dry powder of the beach, leaving the ocean behind. The inferno in my mind was too much to bear, and all the oceans of the earth could not extinguish the feelings overtaking me now. I pulled the scarf up around my hips and reached for my clothes. Then I saw him in the water. As if Poseidon, he emerged from the ocean. His skin glistened, and tiny pearls of water dropped from his thighs. I have never seen such magnificent, frightening beauty.

His torso was perfectly proportioned, his limbs exquisitely balanced, and then there was his cock. It stood out straight as if a weapon, clearly aimed at me - I gasped and pulled back, disturbed and yet spellbound. I've brought on this transformation. It is me he wants. I have that power over him, I thought. He knelt beside me, again talking to me as his hands moved over my breasts and between my legs. There was a blessed silence as his lips began to travel from the tips of my toes upward to my thighs.

Come, I cried, come to me now. But he took his time. I wanted to savor every second and feel every emotion that was before me a feast like no other. I wanted to pleasure myself with every nerve ending and every lingering touch. First, I enjoy you, and then I enjoy myself. I offered her a sip of wine. This first time is very special. It is a coming together of friends, we salute each other and recognize each other. Everything about you is new, your skin, your smell, your taste. Your voice too, the voice of passion, I have not heard it. Look at me, yes, go on.

Talk to me, to my spirit, and to my body. My eyes feasted on his muscular arms, his hips, the strong hairy thighs. My hands reached around his firmly rounded buttocks as smooth and hairless as a baby. Nevertheless, I could not express that sensation in words then or now. I did not know his language, nor could I find my own. Against my pelvis pulsated his erection with a seeming life of its own. I had tried to ignore this most obtrusive male appendage.

Now I ran my fingers over the throbbing vein; it felt so smooth and vulnerable that I wanted to draw it into my womb. Licking its silky tip, I tasted the ocean, honey, a man, and life itself. I gasped as if in exquisite pain. I could no longer control the rolling movements of her pelvis.

From Him:

She was a storm of passion unleashed, and I was enveloped in her passionate power. I want you; I want you! I cried out into the night air giving myself totally to that new sensation of lust, of shameless greed for his beautiful body.

From Her:

He did not launch himself at me as I expected, but penetrated slowly, deliberately giving me time to feel him inside my body. Then he was suddenly tossing me about like a raft on wild white water. For a time, I lost my own course. Happily, I bounced along with him, but then the urging won out, and I climbed on top to ride him, driving him close to delirium until I was getting my full measure of delights.

Exhausted and with burning content, I put my head on his chest, bathing my skin in the dew of our lovemaking, utterly relaxed and at peace with the universe. The sound of the ocean and from time to time, his rich voice kept me entranced until I lost all consciousness in a mysterious, dream-filled sleep.

We talked until time itself seemed to stand still. We savored the space we made for ourselves in the fabric of time, relishing the moment that seemed to last through a thousand tomorrows. We never met again after that until I saw his face in the newspaper. International Committee Decides Contra Support; his face?

There in black and white reviving the images in my brain. He was the deepest agent come in from the cold. They called him by name: the Leopard. My mind wandered to that time we had together no matter where I went.

The memory served me as a respite from the world, time, and my troubled spirit. Now more than ever, at the most inappropriate times, his voice will ring in my ears that electric moist skin will glisten seductively before my eyes, and slowly my pelvis will begin to rock.

I am riding the Leopard.

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