Ravished Languish

Women yearn for seduction. That charged thickness of desire, crackling like an impending explosion.

She longs for that thrill, the first seduction. And prays that he’ll deliver and take his time.

Hoping that he will caress her senses. Tenderly like a fire.

Hoping that he will brew her slowly, extracting every last drop of pleasure.

A woman’s mind is orgasmic, play with it, spark her imagination.

Watch her as she revels in hot sensations. Widening, melting, moistening. Traveling through her.

Woman wants to be delighted. Challenged.

Allure her slowly.

Watch her crumbling resistance.

She will be yours.

Unfulfilled anticipation moisturizes parched lips.

Hear her groan as you enchant her.

A woman begs to be enthralled by man. She longs for imprisonment, strives for release and placation.

She begs him to devour her soul, to tease her skillfully and with great affection.

There is no greater temptation.

Seduce her mind.

The thought of him hungers.

Passionate arousal.

Forcefully, subtly, display your intention.

Seduce her senses. Allowing each cell to awaken.

Be patient and tender. Prepare her. Long before the final act.

Man seduces woman by the way he looks at her.

His smile.

The movement of his lips as they are moistened.

Let her long to be claimed.

Hear her moan through the aching sensations of expectation.

Woman delights in anticipation of man’s touch.

His fingers, his hands.

The sheer masculinity of his body.

She longs for him to seduce her slowly, teasingly, determinedly.

But woman is often disappointed.

Man has no desire to arouse her.

He longs for release but will not release her.

So woman craves, ever yearning for the transcendent orgasm.

Fervently hoping that he will extract her, as she revels in the swelling of the flesh.

She begs him to transmit his desire, his animalistic urge to devour.

To coax her.

Bellowed beating as her heart aspires.

She watches him. Groaning. Dreaming. Yearning. Aching.

Seduced by way he looks at her.

Deliberately, suggestively.

The way he speaks, the depth of his stillness. Hungrily, frantically, she awaits him.

Woman yearns for electric movement, the drowning sensation as he stands motionless behind her. Claiming her. Without a touch. Silent.

Still.

Until she can’t stand it any more, and ravishes him.

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