Welcome to My World

The room is just the right temperature for sleep beneath the gentle weighted of the blue down comforter. With my sleep mask still on, I can feel but not see the light of the blossoming morning sun. The cool red satin sheets glide against my skin where the silky white pajamas don't cover me. A delicate aroma--gardenias laced with jasmine--drifts from a modern flower vase on my nightstand. Beneath it, and coming from behind me, a stronger, musky scent: Elsa.

I sense her warmth and I hear her breath, purring and prowling toward me, as I begin to float toward consciousness. She's probably been up for a while, restless, her hunger sharpening. It's been a few days and it's likely that she's been working on an itch that she just can't seem to scratch to her satisfaction without me. Her patience is wearing thin.

Like a lioness on the plains who can go a few days without eating, my wife has learned to wait until the opportune moment before pouncing. She watches--the twitches under my eyelids, the way my body stiffens, and the contortions of my face--tracking the arc of my REM cycles. The end of the last cycle is the critical moment. She knows how to use atonia and morning wood to kindle carnal fire.

It's a wonder that we are compatible--or rather, that we've made it work. I am drawn to the sensory: fragrances, textures, beauty. My space is filled with photography of landscapes and tasteful nudes. I savor ethereal music, sparkling wines, and chocolates. She likes explicit internet porn, raw nudity, and hard cocks. "In the dark," she says, "all cats are gray." What keeps it electric is the seduction, the constant game of cat and mouse.

For our first time, I staged what I hoped she'd see as a grand romantic gesture. I showered, shaved, put on cologne and changed into provocative, easily removable clothing. I put fresh cut red roses in a vase, dimmed the lights, and lit scented candles. New Age music wafted out of concealed speakers. Peeking out from under the down comforter was a plush, absorbent purple mat that eliminated the possibility that either of us would have to spend even moment of post coital bliss in a sticky puddle. A small bottle of Asti chilled beside the bed. Two crystal flutes on my nightstand stood a quiet vigil; a vial of luxuriously fragrant and edible lube stood ready. A Belgian chocolate sat on each pillow.

"I love that you took the time and put in the energy, Artie," she said, "Did you learn this from the Hallmark Channel," she giggled playfully. "It's sweet--who wouldn't be impressed? But," she added, as she kicked off her shoes and reached for the top button of her jeans, "I don't need to be seduced to want to jump your bones, like, right now. I just need your tight little tush and a peek at what's been teepee-ing your pants since we started dating."

I caught her hand before she could strip. "I like it slow." I leaned forward and she toppled onto the bed. I settled myself down next to her and kissed her deeply on the lips. "Welcome to my world," I murmured.

"Wait--we're still dressed," she whispered dreamily, not meaning to protest but instead, to express surprise.

"That's part of the fun," I said, picking up one of the chocolates. "I like unwrapping things, contemplating what might be inside," I gently slid my finger under the chocolate's wrapper and slowly removed its foil. "Is it going to be sweet, spicy, nutty, gooey or something I didn't expect? That anticipation makes it more delicious." I held the candy to her lips. She opened them and snapped it in. "See?"

"Tonight, you're my chocolate," I said, unwrapping mine. "Ooh, it's a spicy one with a little jalapeno! I didn't see that coming."

"I'm going to take my time unbuttoning you... unsnapping you... unzipping you... and then I'll remove everything that's come undone or been revealed. I'll savor every part of your body. I'll make you ache for release. I'll make you beg me to come inside of you."

"And then can a I rip your clothes off and get down to business?" she teased lustily.

"Nope. Then I'll get naked, one piece of clothing at a time. All the while, I'll be pleasuring your body with touches and kisses in preparation for the grand finale. Let's make it last." She smiled, and I kissed her, the sweet and spicey chocolates mingling between us.

Elsa, I would learn, is quite oblivious to settings. Bed, beach, back seat, or boudoir--it's all the same to her. This surprised me because until I met Elsa, I had always thought that beautiful settings bred sexual intimacy, not just for myself, but for everyone. She gamely abides my eccentricities especially during evening lovemaking.

But mornings belong to Elsa. And that is why she is naked and purring, snuggled so close that I can feel her breath and heartbeat. Her left hand traced the outside of my thigh. Her right arm slid under my neck so that my head rested on her shoulder, her index and middle fingers pressing beneath my nose and on my lips. The scent and taste of her fingers left me no doubt about her efforts to scratch that itch before I awoke. She nipped playfully at my ear.

Her left hand curved inward toward my, crotch grazing my erection--testing, teasing. I felt her hand curl into a claw and raked slowly across my pubis, which was still under the soft barrier of my pajamas. Her hand uncurled and, as if to claim possession of the flesh underneath, came to rest. She smacked her lips. My hips arched into her hand. "You're mine," she growled. "Welcome to my world."

She withdrew from my crotch and began slowly dragging her nails up my torso. As she reached my collar, her right hand took a firm hold my pajama top. "... don't understand pajamas..." she muttered. Her fingers found the top button and began pushing it through its hole. "... no warmth... don't need modesty... we're alone... flimsy... can't protect... when I get hungry." Her determined fingers moved to the second button, and when she succeeded in undoing it, she made short work of the last one.

My buttons undone, she slipped her right arm from beneath my neck. As her arm moved, her hand grabbed the garment's collar and yanked it from my body.

She smashed my left shoulder down onto the bed, laying me flat on my back. She swung her leg over me so that she could grind her wet crotch into my groin. "Better," she purred, smacking her lips again.

Pressing down with her hips, she shifted forward. Elsa's nails scratched a slow line from my waistband to my collar bone, lingering at my nipples. Her belly slid against mine. Our chests aligned, our nipples kissed. Her breath brushed my face. She ripped off the sleep mask and flung it onto the pile of clothing where my pajama top lay crumpled like a discarded candy wrapper. My eyes fluttered open, and I finally I saw her, for the first time in our long relationship, in her in full feral glory.

This was not my demure soulmate, the mother of my children, cosignatory on the mortgage, and the woman I pictured sipping tea with me during old age. Framed by the early morning light, this was a ferocious goddess unconstrained by convention or reason, obedient only to her own needs, appetites, and passions. And I was her supplicant--stripped, powerless, and now, subject to her hunger.

Her lips savaged mine. She easily pushed them aside forcing my jaw open. She invaded my mouth, immobilized my tongue, plunging deep inside at will.

After a few moments of savoring my mouth, I felt her withdraw so that she could deploy her lips and tongue on the rest of my face and neck. She licked my lips from corner to corner, taking care to leave the space between my lips and nose moist with her saliva. She licked my jawline and began biting at the skin on my neck.

Keeping her naked crotch connected to my clothed one, Elsa's weight shifted again. She repositioned herself so that her face hovered over my chest. Her tongue flicked out, searching. When she found my nipple, she captured it with her lips and drew it into her mouth. Her lips massaged the nipple while her tongue flitted around it. Her fingers found the other and began to tease it with gentle pinches and playful flicks.

I was already hard when I woke, but now I throbbed--something her pussy noticed through my pajama bottoms. She looked up from her perch on my nipple with an evil grin. It wouldn't be long now, she knew, and the trick would be to prevent me from ejaculating before I was at my juiciest.

She shifted again, rotating to face my feet. With one motion, she threw the blue comforter off the bed and onto the floor, fully exposing us to the air and light. She peered down at the tent I had made of my pajama bottoms. She gripped the waistband on both sides. "Off" she hissed. With a determined and unapologetic motion, she forced my pajama pants down to my knees.

At last, she had exposed what she had waited for, and it seemed to be almost ready for consumption. She pounced on it greedily--one hand on my shaft, the other on my scrotum--but she didn't rush. With my pants tangled around my knees, escape was unlikely. She knew she would get what she wanted. She began to toy with her conquest, watching me shiver and struggle, both of us knowing that my release would come only when she willed it. She knew that waiting a little longer would make the feast much sweeter.

"Wait," she growled. Then, with an ironic grin: "Karma"

Now firmly in control, Elsa shifted her knees back toward my head so that she could more easily begin the feast. Lurching back on her haunches gave me a view of her fabulous curvy backside. With her knees on either side of my head, I could see it all: the curve of her hips as they tapered into her back, the cleft of her ass, the tight rosebud between her cheeks, and the engorged and open lips of her vulva. As she lowered herself, I lost sight of her bottom--but was repaid with a close-up view of her clitoris and its surrounding folds as well as the dark heat of her opening. Surrounding her sex was an unruly and fragrant bush, a mane that had never encountered a civilizing razor. She lowered herself onto my face, burying me in her scent, her need, and her hunger.

"Breathe me," she murmured, grinding into my face. "Now taste... "Eat," she growled.

I tentatively slipped the tip of my tongue out of my mouth to sample her as she'd instructed. The moment I tasted her ambrosia, I began a feast of my own. My tongue probed the underside of her crack and teased her taint. I sucked at her lips and massaged each one with my tongue and my lips. She purred and shifted just enough to bring her clitoris over my mouth for similar treatment. Her body trembled; she began to spasm.

She gave as good as she got. Her tongue swirled around my glans lingering on the now tingling frenulum. Her lips joined in, trying to coax my brewing semen out drop by drop. Her thumb and forefinger made an "O" around my shaft, which she began to slide up and down. Her other hand massaged my testicles, and then from time to time tickled the pudendal seam that ran from my scrotum to my anus. She used two of her fingers to pry my cheeks apart so that she could tease and taunt the most private and intimate part of my body. "Mine, too," the dancing fingers seemed to say, "Soon..."

As she felt my legs attempting to squeeze together and my hips begin to rise off the bed, she withdrew. Her hands pressed me back into the bed until my bucking passed. "Savor," she purred with ironic delight. After the trembling subsided, she started again.

Both of us were beginning to shake. Elsa is capable of multiple orgasms, but we both know that I am not. She knew what she wanted; she also knew that she that she wouldn't get it if she failed to temper her play with mercy. But, deep in the most ancient part of her brain, Elsa also knew something else: That the male of the species is driven by the same biological imperative that drives the female to create life and would therefore be determined to deliver its contribution on target. There would be no spilling of seed. She had done this so many times before that her animal instincts were sensitive and flawless. Elsa continued to play with me, flashing that wolfish smile over her shoulder all the while.

On and off, on and off, on and off. My cock thrashed wildly in her mouth. Her hands struggled to keep control of me. I was now approaching the brink, the point where she would impale herself and ride me to satiety. She could almost taste it.

Suddenly, something stirred inside me--something ancient something with claws and sharp teeth. It had always been there, waiting. It surged through my limbs, and I watched as I shoved Elsa's ass forward, leaving her planted firmly on her hands and knees. "Down," I heard myself snarling in a version of my voice I didn't recognize. My legs kicked free. The pajama bottoms slipped off like old skin. I snorted like an animal suddenly set free. I watched my hand fling the pants onto the pile of clothes on the floor. We were both now equally naked and raw.

Elsa, leered at me over her shoulder as if to offer an insolent dare. She didn't speak any more words, but she didn't need to. Her entire being--her pheromones, her sweat, her cunt juice, her spit, and her swaying ass, had been highly articulate: "Come fuck me, tiger. Now or never." She widened her knees to show her sopping cunt and asshole, and she lurched forward onto her forearms in compliance, offering herself completely.

My body lunged at her. My cock, now slick with her spit, smoothly plunged into her cunt. My hips slammed into her ass. I grabbed her tits to gain more control of her writhing body. I squeezed them, capturing her stiff nipples in the space between my fingers for special treatment. Her whole body shook violently as my cock pounded in and out of her. One, two, three spasms, and then she let out a roar, fierce and wild. My throbbing cock tingled and pulsed until, in four thick spurts, it had flooded her. A roar even louder than hers escaped my mouth.

She collapsed onto the bed, and after an initial gasp, started purring in satisfaction.

Reason began to descend upon us. I still filled her, but my penis was beginning to retreat, becoming less feral, more civil. I collapsed on top of her, struggling to maintain the intimacy, the closeness that only penetration brings. The warmth of her body, the cool air on my skin and the fading orgasm--all of it held me still. My eyes began to close. The beast inside me sauntered back into the wilderness of my mind. As I began to drift off, I felt gratitude for the wholeness of the woman who had just introduced me to myself, and I clung to the dissolving moments during which I could still be of her world.