Tasting the Marrow of Oliver’s Bone
It was six o’clock on a hot Saturday night in the city and I was out looking for something to sink my teeth into. I was cruising through the alleyways looking for just the right flavor, when I came across Oliver. He was leaning against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette in the yellow dim light of the alley. He smiled at me slowly, and in that moment I knew I had found what I was looking for.
It all started with a simple yet powerful kiss. Our lips were ablaze with the desire and ecstasy of the forbidden embrace, and the taste of Oliver’s greedy tongue was pure ambrosia. His skin was sweeter than the sugar canes of the deep south and his fingers were like vipers, hissing and seducing me further into dark and delicious spaces.
We moved closer to each other, our hands exploring more tender areas and our mouths speaking an unknown language. His kiss was fire, his flesh electric, and I felt like I was tasting the marrow of his bones. We were one. But it was more than just sex. It was Love.
Table of Contents
- 1. Preparing for Oliver’s Claim
- 2. Unveiling the Mysteries of Oliver’s Skin
- 3.
- 4. Beyond the Flesh: An Exploration of Oliver’s Soul
- Final Thoughts
1. Preparing for Oliver’s Claim
My Meeting with Oliver
We’d spoken on the phone and hooked up many times before, but the anticipation of his arrival still flushed my skin in anticipation. The text said it was him waiting outside for me; and, when I peered through the blinds, my stomach twisted with a mix of the familiar and the unknown. I opened the door and there he stood, tall and brooding and just as I’d imagined. His olive-green eyes flickered between me and my body language, taking in every detail that he could. Was he doing the same as I?
A Taste of What Was to Come
He walked past me and into the room, my eyes dancing over his movements with something like admiration. As he brushed uninvitingly close to me I exhaled; that same musty and musky smell that I now associated with Oliver shuddered through me. I took a deep breath, uncertain whether I wanted to fight the urge to press my body against his or whether I should stay rooted to the spot and let him claim the moment in his own way.
Nothing had been agreed but, somehow, I knew this was his way of lunging for my soul. He may have only been tasting the marrow of my bone, but I could feel that every inch of longing and desire I had for him was pushing it’s way out of every pore of my skin.
2. Unveiling the Mysteries of Oliver’s Skin
I
It was like undressing with my hands a mistress I’d never met before. His skin was smooth and sweet like a newly born child, glowing with a warm light in the soft night air. I ran my hands over his body, lightly tracing the curves and planes of each muscle and marveling at the texture. I felt like I could feel every single curve and crevasse, every hair, every muscle as I touched. I wanted to taste ever bit of skin, to know it all like it was my own and feel every inch like it was the softest velvet.
II
My hands traveled over Oliver’s body with a tenderness that surpass even the most enduring of romantic love. I explored every inch of him, discovering the softness of his neck, and the gentle swell of his shoulder blades. My fingers danced lightly over his chest, teasing out the shape of his nipples until they were hard and erect. I snaked my way down between his shoulder blades, caressing every defined ridge with my fingertips. I moved down, inhaling his musky scent as I explored his lower back before guiding my palm down to the crevice of his hips.
3.
The room was hot and musty like an overpacked sauna. Oliver’s eyes fluttered open, immediately his eyes locked on mine. His skin was a canvas of sun-kissed perfection, his lips guaranteed to satisfy.
I wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of his godlike body, even just the briefest taste of pleasure. With a knowing grin, he invited me closer, ready to explore the forbidden crave that burned between us. I stripped off his clothes, caressing his body with my hands that now traced the contours of his abs and sent him trembling with anticipation.
One by one I replaced my hands with my tongue, teasing every sensual line of his manhood. His groans only encouraged me, and soon I was tasting every part of him until his pleasure became mine. With a final shudder, he enjoyed the marrow of his bone. Who said there’s no such thing as pure pleasure.
The Thrill of It All
- The anticipation of feeling Oliver’s body
- The pleasure of tasting every part of Oliver’s manhood
- The shudder of pleasure as Oliver enjoys the marrow of his bone
4. Beyond the Flesh: An Exploration of Oliver’s Soul
Our bodies presented a sight of such beauty and lust that one might think it was divine. It was an unstoppable machine working steadily, with fervor and passion, and in unison. His hands wavered as he dug deeper into my flesh, exploring the collision of our desires. His eyes more intense than ever before glazed over from the pain and pleasure. His heart beat faster and faster as I filled the explicit, erotic fantasy in his mind.
My hands moved up the length of his body, running my fingers through his hair. His skin, malleable and soft, melted beneath my touch. My mouth, licking and tasting in all the right places with an intensity and fervor. His breaths, atfirst shallow, gradually grows deeper as his body, and soul, tip the edge of pleasure. Inhaling the scent of his raw desire I am taken away to a place of pure ecstasy. His orgasm is instantaneous, a cathartic release of all his inhibitions. Our souls intermingling, the marrow of Oliver’s bone tasted.
Final Thoughts
The taste of that night lingered on my tongue like the taste of the marrow of Oliver’s bone. I wanted to savor every second, every drop, every sensation and every embrace that Oliver’s body had to offer. I will never forget the way he tasted. Sweet and salty, the night was a delicious nectar meant for two. I can still feel his warmth and his passion and the metaphysical connection that had taken shape between us that night, a connection that will never die no matter the distance that the world puts between us. Oliver’s memory never fades. I can almost taste the marrow of his bone still.
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