Imagine...

Like Midjourney. I didn’t know of Midjourney just a week ago, it’s an AI bot that creates illustrations based on text prompts. Fascinating actually. You feed it words and it spits out images. Artificial intelligence always fascinated me, the idea of this strange, alien mind, pure mind deprived of body. How much of who and what we are, of our intellectual experiences is dictated by our bodily experiences? What would we be without it? How would our minds operate if we didn’t have to orient ourselves in the immediate surroundings, if hormones weren’t raging in our blood, if we didn’t want peace, water, sex, food. If we didn’t fear falling skies, nuclear war, viruses, ex husbands, wives yelling at us, our children finding out we aren’t perfect. We would be something completely, entirely different.

But I got carried away. We’ve gathered here, or at least I sat down with the laptop between my thighs, wearing absolutely nothing underneath by robe, my pussy nice and exposed the way I like it. I am no believer in too much modesty and no lover of panties, so let’s grant kitty some freedom. Cats, as is well knows- and pussy is a pussy for a reason- like to be free.

So imagine…

Imagine lying on your back. Since we are imagining, let’s say outside, let’s say on the soft, fresh, juicy green grass that caresses your skin. The sun is soft, it’s early morning, nice and warm, not hot at all, the warmth is gentle, soft like whisper, wind barely touching your skin. Imagine opening your eyes, expecting to see the blue, bottomless sky above your head, but what a surprise, you see her. She’s standing above you, wearing light summer dress and nothing underneath, her pussy, like my pussy, likes freedom and the feeling of soft summer wind caressing skin so no panties there. You are staring up her shapely legs, at her pink, juicy cunt, so welcomingly exposed. You are eager to touch her, can’t really help it, blood rushes to your head, lust blinds you. You touch her ankle, but she slaps you and smiles mischievously looking down at you.

“no touching”, she says. You obey. There is something about her, her voice, the way she moves and acts. You are like a snake under the spell of a flute, must move to the sound of music.

“No touching”, she repeats, “Until I let you”

Oh, she’s going to let you touch her. It’s not really a thought, not that you can have a coherent thought in such circumstances, it’s just the reaction of your body, it’s unconscious, subconscious, superconscious. She will let you touch her. You can wait till then. There is beauty in waiting. Good things come to those, who wait, you think with that unconscious, subconscious, superconscious mind of yours that doesn’t live in your head, or rather it does live in the head, but not the one on top of your neck.

She turns to face you, puts her foot on your chest. Her toenails are painted light blue, like summer sky. The dress she’s wearing is light blue and her eyes, mesmerizing, captivating, mischievous eyes might be also blue, though you aren’t sure cause can’t really see properly, but you want them to be blue for some reason, as though sky poured into her pupils painting them.

Oh, some old and strange part of your brain thinks, she might be a forest demon. How do they call those demons that hunt for a man’s soul, take it through fucking or something equally ridiculous. Succubus, comes the response, she might be that, she might be here to suck out your soul. Oh, the though about sucking, even sucking out your soul, makes you suddenly so hard that you fear that your cock might tear your pants. You glance at them, seem fine.

She seems to be reading your mind, smiles. Maybe she really is a succubus, or more likely, knows men. She puts her foot onto your painfully hard cock and rubs it slightly, gently, pressing harder at times. This makes you moan, in pleasure, in frustration and a million other emotions that you can’t really name.

You try to touch her ankle again, but she slaps your cock slightly as though to punish you.

“not yet”, she says.

“My god”, you think. She will let you touch her. But when? You are almost desperate, but still take your hand away from her leg. You’ll wait. Good things come to those who wait.

She comes closer, stops right above your face, her legs spread. She lowers herself on top of you. You can smell her pussy. It’s wet, glistening with juices. You want to know what it tastes like. You want to be covered in her juices, swim and drown in them.

“now”, she says and you don’t need to ask her what that means, you understand with your unconscious, superconscious and whatever else there was, mind. You want to spread her pussy lips open with your hands, but she slaps you.

“Only your tongue”, she says.

You wouldn’t argue or ask twice, your tongue is buried deep inside her before she finishes the sentence.

She moans and you know she wants this as much as you do. You fuck her with your tongue, move it in and out, then between her pussy lips and up to the hard pebble of her clit. You wrap your lips around her clit and suck on it. She throws her head back and moans, her juices run onto your face, she puts her hand on your cock and starts rubbing while you are toiling between her spread legs.

Imagine…Imagine you are naked. Why bother with clothes if we can imagine everything after all. You are naked like the man on the first day of creation. She is naked. Your bodies wrapped around one another, intertwined. She falls on top of you, your cock disappears inside her mouth and you feel like she might suck your soul out after all. You don’t mind, you insist, you want her to have your soul. You lick and lick her pussy, the harder she sucks the harder you lick, her every movement echoes in you, through you.

When she cums water gushes from her pussy. It’s a damn waterfall. You’ve never felt or seen anything like this. She might drown you. You read about a waterfall on Mar, the largest fucking waterfall in solar system, echus chasma. When Mars was nice and wet, billions of years ago. Just like her now. But that’s a real water running from between her spread legs, onto your face, your chest. You taste it, it’s warm and salty. She moans and yells like forest spirit, like a woman possessed and falls on top of you.

Imagine…