Sexual Memory

There are those times when music can heighten every sense we possess. It threads its way through the body, mind, and soul until it becomes a part of us. One that demands to be noticed. Its presence eclipses our usual thoughts, forcing us to recognize the power it holds over us. And we yield to it. Willingly. Wantonly. Recklessly.
 
Such was the case with me the other nite. While doing some tasks, I had various songs playing. The strains of the music were glorious pouring through my speakers and filling me. I found myself drawn over and over to one song in particular. I would stop what I was doing and replay it. Again and again.
 
I was consumed by it. Absolutely overtaken by the musician's voice and the instruments. It permeated me. The intensity of the song became my own intensity. It manifested itself in a need for sex to expend my lust and desire. I could not deny the action it begged from me. My mind was wild, and the heat of my body was palpable.
 
Urgent but unhurried sex was what I needed. There could be no talking and no lights, except for the moon's rays filtering through the window. Only two bodies entangled in frenzied mutual pleasuring. Without words. Intense, dark, and torrid.
 
He gave me that and more. From the very first touch of his fingers on my tightened nipples, I knew he could identify with how the music had affected me. He sensed, felt, the almost violent need for release that was overpowering me. And I...I had an undeniable craving to bring him to a forceful, body-shaking orgasm.
 
Sitting, standing, kneeling, laying, the positions were ever changing. Kisses were not limited to mouths; they were given whenever and wherever on our bodies. Tongues roamed, licking and lapping at anything and everything. Exploring, delving. Mouths opened and devoured. Sucking, pulling, biting. Hands skimmed over flesh. Fingers slid through hair before clutching the strands in a fist hold. They dug into the flexing cheeks of taut bottoms. They penetrated tight puckered holes, thrusting in and pulling back. Repeatedly. Swollen balls were fondled and caressed. A beautiful, long, thick cock was stroked and taken inside a wet mouth. Oral loving given. A needy and aching pussy was brought to furious contractions via fingers, a tongue, and a luscious cock.
 
And we came. Gushes of pearly cream let loose with loud cries and quaking, jerking limbs and arching torsos. I was rendered helpless by the aftershocks that gripped and released me at their whim. Completely spent.
 
I was fulfilled. By him. And now free of the song's hold on me.

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