Magnolia Music MagazineMagnolia Music Magazine
Magnolia Music MagazineMagnolia Music Magazine

VAL: A story of PADANO

The home door was closed, the nerves of a first encounter ordered my thoughts that rose and lowered their temperature to incalculable and inhuman grades. Obsessed by new technology failures, I looked constantly to a light that never turned on. 

My hand, allied in what was a sequential release from that state and as effervescence all stood up searching an exit. I decided to stop, synaptically connected the part of my brain that was still responding to stop my hand, that didn’t do other than rising and lowering. Sight by sight, exhaled my breath, strengh and conscience, tightened my legs and detained what would cause a fall without protection.

To my surprise the doorbell rang in that moment, you were there. 

I already smelled your skin. I already heard your breathing. I already felt your breath running through my body. I already saw the end of that encounter.  

When you walked through the door, a breath overwhelmed my ego. This disconcerted lowered, at the same time as my pants, and at the same time my back felt support on the cold wall of the landing. 

My hands, sailed aimlessly again, but with more freedom that ever. They held your head, while I entered your mouth, rescuing every passion that had cowered. Squeezed and released, as previously had reproduced film scenes

I forgot, everything that I had learned, as I felt more comfortable flying free in that swing of emotions. 

Your hands, grabbed every unknown dimension of my body, in which clothes were left over, but demanded sweat and moans. 

Our nipples shrinked, not for shame, rather for pleasure. Everything grew again, with a pair of licks, in which I felt each pore of your tongue, scratching and making myself present at that moment. I remember that you drew me with that tongue, you traced your route that still, moisten my state. Provoking erections that I can’t and wan’t control. 

That tongue, accompanied and guided me in that process. I found it illuminating zones that normally spend time in darkness. Stopped in my belly bottom, played with the piercing ring that is placed to not miss the track that points where to go. 

As a good counselor, you continued the route of sights that I had marked. Lowered my underwear, while you exhaled warm breath, so hot, that tarnished my belly. I was overwhelmed, but I put back together when I exhaled with you, while I found my foothold, my transcendence to reality, my hands wrinkling each length of sheet near me. 

You insisted in going down, entering an area where the guide map had been broken. My mind, my body, whole, were turning round without knowing where and when to stop. I, still, looked to the ceiling, without any need of counting wear of time. I only could fold, twist, disorder my body expression with each descent you made on me. 

My erection was hard, strong, carried each mililiter, centiliter and liter of blood to her, like a tornado brings to its epicenter everything wants to overwhelm. That’s where you concentrated your maximun splendour, that’s where I decided to disappear. 

A thousand songs sounded inside me, a thousand noises broke the silence that the night demanded. My legs shrank, finding a foothold, a moment when I felt your head between them, your parenthesis of isolation. Thus, you didn’t hear the times I said your name, as someone who invokes the best of luck the greatest of luck. 

Everything improved when we resumed the conversation that we had pending, when our mouths joined forces, because I rescued a flavor that I had forgotten, that of the impurity of my crotch. It is really pleasant to know what one tastes like. 

You directed your mouth to my ear, I knew it was not to tell me anything, but to listen to what your breathing sounds like. With a sensually jerky movement, I raised your body above mine. You had leftover underwear, so I discreetly removed it from the part I was demanding. I knew it was my turn, I knew it was my turn to remind you why, we were there.

Our horizons became one, there was only one silhouette to identify. Your body demanded sheets, so as a trapeze artist we advance our skills. You tasted the gentleness with which I treat things when I’m alone. Everything settled with a sigh.

I lightly toured your body, I started with your neck, the one that did not stop in its breathing rhythm. At that moment I allowed myself the luxury of closing the passage to the air, I needed you to look at me, to ask and invoke the same way that I had done.

You tried to hide my face, but I was the one in control now. It was me, who marked the lines that we were going to step on. So, your hands ended up trapped under the pillow.

My lips adapted to the structure of your body, at the same time heated and moistened the corners that razed. Your body reacted to each touch, I knew that your gaze was cloudy, your hands were blocked and your being was a prisoner of my choky indications.

It was time to expose yourself, to remove every layer that wasn’t yours, the clothes were off. Only the natural remained, only our skins remained. In silence I showed you that orally, I don’t just have a brilliant lyric. My lips and tongue formed a perfect execution command, moving rhythmically in a ritual of pleasure and sensation.

When I finished, our bodies were like magnets, of opposite poles, attracting and dragging everything. My body rose, and with it, your legs, creating a perfect symbiosis, like those pieces that you anxiously awaited playing Tetris, because they were going to grant you the victory you longed for so much.

Without knocking, I entered, when this happened, only our voice was heard, in one, a perfect duo of pleasure without fear, uncertainty or shame. I freed your hands again, I needed them approving every move I made with you, now, if I had to go through them. You chose my back, space of the sea, your hands could not cling to it from the water that had accumulated. I noticed how you scratched me from time to time, but I knew it was for pleasure, to let me know that you were still there, that I was playing the exact keyboard key you needed at that moment.

They will call us traditional, but we don’t need to leave to re-enter, we continue embedded. There, we found the exit. When you squeezed your legs, making it difficult for me to enter, I knew the time had come, and like a gospel choir, we both gave the final bow, singing together the closing of our encounter.

Since then, we haven’t seen each other again….I dream beautifully

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