The Open Matt Project

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She has the most fascinating cheekbones. Just look at the smooth curve it makes down the side of her cheek and around those pouting lips. How does her jawline curve like that? How does it curve up into that nook under her ear, so close to her neck - which is of itself a masterpiece? Look at her eyes. Dark, soulful, evocative of nocturnal woodland rituals.

Wait, look again - they are blue as tropical waters, and as shimmering. They make me want to giggle and explore. Her lips, uneven, one a narrow saber, the other a plush ottoman, both conspiring to make me kiss them. She has a face that defies geometry, and serves seduction.

Blink. Her dark hair curves and curls around the cute, curious eyes and frames a young vortex of potentials. Is that a button-nose? It points up at the end. It fits on her face like a queen on her throne, and leads just as well. On occasion her tongue is visible, small, soft pink and wet. To die for.

I've forgotten her breasts. They strain against the buttons on her shirt, and when she turns I can see through the resulting wrinkles. They are full and tight and hardly move when she sits down. Poor dears. No revolutionary desired freedom more than I for you.

No, they are small, delicate fruits hanging from her like the tree in Eden and twice as succulent. I can hear her heartbeat hiding behind them and I control it's tempo with my touch. Her nipples are the axis around which my entire face rotates, an inexhaustable supply of hunger and kisses colliding around them.

Her belly, so firm and athletic no round and soft and are there soft hairs or none? Her back has a mole on it shaped like a foetal question-mark, and I love it. No. It's clear and smooth without a single mark, a runway for my hands and braille for my eyes. Her legs are short, and her thighs are luscious and between them she holds her second mouth and I'm listening to it comforted by those walls of cushioned warmth.

NO

They're long, and thin, and as my eyes trace the T's I'm inexorably drawn to the twin diamonds beneath her waist, one made of the light shining behind her and the other made of her hidden, folded smile.

NO

They come up and cradle an ass that makes my hands twitch and my face feel naked. It's round and dimpled and it's not dimpled and she's bent over something or she's lying down or she's brushing her teeth with her weight on one leg and I must have it now.

AGAIN

I trace a finger from her feet to her legs up around her world of ass and through her legs to I moan inside and she giggles to her belly and it's arms now and around her back and split now, boys, one up to her neck and the other back down, down, deep down, and I feed her and I consume her and there seems to be not enough, never enough, not up and up and against her breasts and in her mouth and looking for eternity oh god help me I see

her eyes

Posted by Matt at January 4, 2004 11:07 AM