I've always liked very much to watch my lovers masturbate. It's intense by default, and personal because they know I'm watching, yet impersonal in that "this-is-not-about-you" sort of way. This is not about pleasing me. This is about pleasuring themselves. In front of me.
And they close their eyes, and for a moment, they look peaceful and pure, with facial expressions that can be likened to the innocence of childhood. It's almost like the look of falling in love - heartbreakingly precious.
Maybe he's on top of me. Maybe he's staring down at my tits while stroking his cock and aiming it at my face, with an expression that is usually mixed: Fear? (Is she really going to let me do this, or is she going to freak out?) Awe? (Oh god, she wants me to do this!) Decision (I'm going to fucking do this whether she wants me to or not...) Maybe he's laying on his back, ignoring me completely. Either way. It's all I can do to not touch him, to not interrupt.
And then he pulls his eyebrows together in deep concentration and stiffens up completely. Maybe he points his toes, maybe they curl up tightly. I watch as his body takes over and that sweet boy inside sinks inside of himself and is temporarily gone. His shoulders stiffen, the veins in his arms will protrude as his blood flows faster and he grips himself more tightly. His thigh muscles will get tense. His mouth will open, his hips will rise. Small, barely suppressed whimpers might come from his throat. And then for a moment, there's a complete loss of control -
(And loss of control? Also makes me crazy with lust.)
The sounds - not the masculine sound of "victory," but the sweet, unguarded sound of relief. Helplessness? The sound of succumbing to a force that has assumed control erupts from his mouth, without suppression. Maybe his back will arch and his head will leave the pillow, or get pushed deeper into it, or both, if he comes hard enough. And I can see his throbbing cock, and his sticky hand still wrapped around it. Sometimes he will smear come over the head of his dick. And his chest and stomach rise and fall with the sudden breaths that he had been almost holding.
... And then the moment has passed. And he's all there again, inside of his head - the beautiful man that changed before my very eyes. From almost shy, to child-like and precious. Searching, concentrating deeply, and ever so slowly losing himself to an abrupt siege from the demon within. Wild abandon...
And back to me again. And I'm wet from all of this voyeurism, intensity, loss of control ...
But it's too late...
Currently feeling: awake
Sway to: Dead Can Dance - Saltarello