Sensual Intimacy
It is a beautiful sunny day; my skin is begging to feel the warm rays of the sun, and my body is aching to be touched by the man in my dreams. I take his hand and gently lead him to the backyard, down by the lake. The trees on either side of the property block the view from any of the other homes on the lake, and the house blocks the view from the road. I had taken a chair, a washbasin, shaving cream, and towels down by the lake. I wanted to shave this beautiful man. There is something so intimate about a man's face and the way he shaves and takes care of himself. It is a trust issue. Does he trust me enough to shave him without cutting him or messing up his goatee? Can he give me control of something that he takes such pride in?
I am wearing a gauzy white, calf-length, spaghetti-strap sundress with nothing but a white thong underneath. I lean down and ask his permission if I can please sit in his lap and shave him. He looks slightly confused, and I motion to the basin, razor, and shaving cream.
He gently pulls me into his lap by wrapping his hands around my bottom and drawing me down until I am straddling him. My thank you is in the form of a long, wet kiss, my hands tracing his masculine facial features while my tongue tastes every area his pouty mouth offers. My dress rises up to show my creamy white thighs, my bare feet displaying shiny red toes.
Looking into his eyes, I ask him if he trusts me. A simple "yes" is all the reply he gives. He raises his hips slightly, adjusts himself, and slides down just so that the zipper on his jeans is rubbing against the outside of my thong. He closes his eyes and nods.
I pick up the washcloth and dip it in the basin and wet his face, put the shaving cream in my hand, and rub it onto his face, being careful to put it in the spots where he normally shaves. All I can think of is that he is such a beautiful man. His creases and lines show a man who smiles and laughs a lot. He is not overly weathered, nor has he smoked his whole life. He is a man who has taken good care of himself, and I am blessed to be sitting in his lap, enjoying the time we have together. The sun shining on his skin, his salt-and-pepper whiskers showing a full day's growth. I am becoming aroused just sitting there and touching him.
I start shaving him slowly and with deliberation, careful not to go outside the lines that he has been shaving since I have known him. His goatee is one of his best features; it makes him look a little wild—it is sexy. I finish shaving him and start to wipe the rest of the shaving cream off with the wet towel when he opens his eyes and our eyes lock. No words need to be spoken. I lean in to kiss him, full on the mouth, shaving cream and all, touching his face, running my hands through his hair. I realize that his hands are pulling and tugging at my hips, and I am grinding my crotch into his jeans.
I reach between us and begin to unbutton his jeans, desire and need taking over all other thoughts. I want him; I need him. I lift up so that he can pull his jeans down part of the way, and he lowers his hand between my thighs and tugs gently at my thong, rubbing the seams along the folds of my fully wet, throbbing pussy. He slides his fingers inside of me. I am holding onto his massive arms for support and balance while I am moving myself back and forth on his fingers, kissing him and tasting him. I push his hand away and reach down to feel his hard, throbbing cock. Placing my hand on his hard member, I slide his cock back and forth between my thighs, wetting him fully and readying him for my pleasure.
I begin to stroke him, up and down; my mind is reeling with pleasure and desire. I do not know what I want first. He starts thrusting, and then he groans for me to stop. I obey and place myself directly over him and slide myself down onto him, rolling my head back to feel him kissing my neck and rubbing my breasts. He is massaging my nipples, and I am going to cum. I move my hips back and forth, popping the head of his cock in and out of the entrance to my hole and getting wetter and wetter.
I know that I am nearing ecstasy. He is almost there too; he grabs my hips and pulls me hard onto his cock. When he begins to cum, the power of his shooting inside of me makes me climax. I want to taste his mouth; I want him to feel me cumming all over his cock. My mind explodes, and my body is limp; I am breathless and weak. He is holding onto me and gently kissing me—his way of saying thanks for the wonderful shave. From then on, when we spend time together, he wants to know if I am going to do the honor of shaving him. I never let him down, because pleasing him pleases me!
