How is love expressed between lovers?

Public shows of affection displayed when they walk together, doors held for her to walk through or phone calls when they’re apart so he has someone to talk to?

Or is it in the acts of love?

Soft kisses taken by lips intertwined in interlocking motions, making ocean waves with her tongue on my lower lip when my teeth clamp down slowly on her upper lip. The tip of my tongue leaves traces down her neck as I bend it backwards with a fistful of hair. Care for everything is lost. Air is forced from her lungs as she exhales sharply.

She breathes in through her teeth as she drinks the lust in my eyes. The desire in hers burn so intense that for a single moment every molecule in the room goes still, slowing our movements so our need magnifies over a lifetime, evolving to a point where the big bang begins. Disrobing slowly and then speeding into a frenzy. Breaking bra hooks and ripping zips as we strip down to our souls. Clothes hold no purpose as she’s wrapped in my arms, hands covering cups and letting go.

Holding, squeezing, kissing, leaving her wheezing; tracing lines down her back as she lays me on my back and takes a tour of duty. Her hands go on not-so discreet missions, letting her tongue lead the way. She goes down south of the garden and proceeds to eat of my fruit of lust and indulgence. The silence of the room is punctured with the sound of my deep voiced song as her deep throat session robs me of the ability to speak. With knees weak I pick her up and go down to her temple to partake of her sacrificial pot of carnal knowledge.

Between her limbs I discover the secret of hidden things, flying face first on a journey of a thousand worlds. Writing poems across her torso with fingertips, my lips give an oral performance that only she can translate. Her mouth opens to speak but only emits vocal stars, giving the neighbours a loud language lesson as she screams in vowels and incomprehensible consonants for me to take her to mars…

“Oh. My. God.



…to mercury…Pa…


to planet… 

Panda… Panda… Panda…”

Her words are my rocket fuel; pushing into her with rhythmic haste. She urges me faster, for I am her steed. Riding with bucks of wild abandon, her hand on my chest, ripping down my torso, my lips on her breasts. Drawing on one like it holds my last breath. Between breathless sighs she tries to tell me she’s almost there.




Don’t stop… don’t you dare.

I don’t.


So, that’s my first attempt at literotica, ever. How’d I do? Think I can make it on to Wet Fridays on TNC?


Comments please… G’night.

About The Capoeira Panda

Panda makes his home in the world of words and metaphors. In the hopes to be more than just a confused blogger, he currently works as the editor for an ecommerce company that was good enough to hire him, and lives with his flat mates & two imaginary dogs who get along just fine. He enjoys reading good books, writing, relaxing with his friends, & poking fun at his mother over the phone. When he's not doing any of these, he sometimes sits back and wonders why anyone expects to learn anything useful about him by reading this bio. View all posts by The Capoeira Panda

16 responses to “Expressions

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