
Cum to me
Warning sexual language and content 18+
People told Imogen that she had special powers, powers of the mind. She knew she had a gift and would practice and share it from time to time to help a loved one or a friend. It was just something she could do and it was no big deal and she thought every one else could do this too.
Her loved one was suffering and she lived at a distance and it was not possible for her to visit. That statement is not true. Let’s be real here for once and lay all the cards on the table. This woman was a loved one in the sense that what happened to this person greatly impacted Imogen’s very close family member, her son. Her daughter-in-law hated Imogen and would not allow her to visit even when she lay dying in a hospital bed. A personal visit being out of the question, an energetic healing visit would be all Imogen could do to ease some pain and assist in a little way.
Taking her by the hand they traveled to the east coast on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean and nestled down in the sand they sat huddled together (it was breezy and a bit cool) and watched as the waves came in. A breath in, hold it, a breath out as the waves hit the shore. Again, breath in, hold it for a count of 5, breath out another wave. Breathing in and out to the waves they became one with the ocean. They breathed the ocean and were the waves. Was it hours or only minutes that went by in this way, it was hard to say because Imogen fell asleep.
The next day Imogen’s son described what had happened to his wife during the night. “She just started taking deep breaths in and holding it, then would breath out. She did this pattern over and over again for about 20 minutes. Then she fell asleep and slept quietly and peacefully for the rest of the night. This is the first time she has really slept in a long time”. Imogen did not tell her son what she had done, he didn’t need to know.
She missed her lover, her person, her partner, her master, her beautiful husband. These are just the words she had been using to describe him but none of these titles were real. They did have “a thing”, a sexual presence which was very hard to describe to anyone else. No one would and should believe her about him anyway. He was just a jerk who had abandoned her and let her down way too many times. But he called to her nightly and the orgasms he elicited were exquisite. She recognized his power over her and that he too could visualize and be in her bed with her.
Cum to me, cum to me, cum to me, he kept calling her over and over again. He was in need, he was in want, he was in desperation.
Imogen dressed herself mentally, tiny black panties just a wisp of silk, black lace bra, form fitting little black dress, thigh-high black leather boots. For accessories she carried the flogger, crop, whip (just in case she wanted to play with him in that way). Every step of the journey she visualized, Uber ride and the license plate CUM 593, train leaving station at 11:11, it was cool on the train and she wished she had brought a wrap, arrival at 12:22, Uber license plate ARR 717, address 333 Trinity Road. She stood in front of his house but forgot to look at the licence plate number on the suv parked in the driveway. Letting herself in the side door, down the stairs, opened up slowly the apartment door (it was unlocked as if he knew she was coming for a visit).
She removed each item of her clothing and placed it carefully over the back of the recliner. Her boots were the last item and these she placed on the boot mat near the door. Completely naked now and oh so wet. The wetness was running down her leg in a little rivulet. His bedroom door was open slightly and she could see his body under the white feather comforter and he lay flat on his back. There was a considerable bulge, a rising of the covers, a total hard-on in progress. Under the covers she crawled licking her way to her goal. A trail of kisses and little bits up his right leg ever so sweetly and softly so as not to disturb and wake him completely. His cock was rock hard and needy. Lick, lick, lick this masterpiece, this beauty. She licked the length of him again and again until he moaned a little. That’s it baby, relax and enjoy this attention to your cock. Let me lick you some more and suck you. Just lay back, nothing is required of you, no performance, no role playing, no being master of the universe, nothing to prove, just feel my mouth on your cock. You called me and I am here to serve you. Imogen repeated again and again these soothing words and sucked and licked and kissed. He was trembling and moaning in earnest now, there would be no holding back this nectar of the gods. His spunk pulsated into her mouth and splashed a little on her lips and chin. So delicious. He sunk into a deep restful pose, Imogen kissed him lightly on the lips and left his bed.
The return trip was a wisp of sounds and sights, taxis, trains, cold air, wishing she wore a coat, and finally stripping herself of her black attire and laying again in her small bed. She swallowed and tasted him again. Lovely.
This may just be your best effort yet, Summerhill. Very sensual, and I could see everything clearly with my mind’s eye!
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Thank you for saying Tony. Your comments are always very much appreciated.
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Thank you for allowing me to visit and read! 🙂
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By the way… a chair on the beach? That’s quite an evocative image too! Have you done something like this before? Perhaps you found a chair, or brought your own?
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This idea of a chair on the beach came from a very dear friend of mine who did a series of paintings on the women in certain countries who couldn’t disrobe and put on a swim suit and join their men folk in the water. All they could do was breath in the waves. I liked the idea of breathing in the waves because I often visualize myself on the beach and go to a favourite spot and do just that – breath. Sometimes I sit on an old chair while I am there. It is very relaxing.
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Wow! I really need to do something similar. That sounds so zen it would be totally my bag. I love the stories behind your artworks, Summerhill.
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