Sensing Kat

These tired eyes may not see as good as they use to, but you will always be beautiful to me, for I view you thru my mind’s eye and the dictates of love.

These old hands, once calloused and rough from constant toil, are softer now from lack of use and the effects of arthritis here and there. But they never tire of your hand in mine or feeling how your body responds as I caress your flesh from head-to-toe.

The on-again off-again effects of tinnitus may cause me to miss a word or two in social settings or cause me to turn the music and TV up a decibel or two, but the sound of your voice is so ingrained within me that I must hear it daily before considering my day complete. And the sound of your whimpers and moans when aroused never fail to thrill me to the core.

This old nose, with a deviated septum from stopping the occasional punch, may not be able to discern a wild rose from a garden variety, but it never fails to come alive with the slightest whiff of your essence: whether it be from natural pheromones, your sexy sweat, or the arousing scent of your equally aroused secretions.

My mouth no longer has perfect pearly white teeth. And it never has been able to distinguish the secret herbs and spices in your daily recipes. But it never fails to be thrilled by the taste of your kisses: lip-to-lip or when our tongues dance in unison. And the taste of your skin, whether I trail my tongue in carefree journeys from front to back and back again, or enjoy sucking your taut nipples, is only surpassed by the elixir of love that causes me to swoon in an intoxicated stupor as I lick a meal from your aroused pussy.

It is true that each of my senses have been changed from the ravages of hard living and time. But this old body never fails to see you, touch you, hear you, smell you, and taste you in the imaginably loving ways as they always have…and always will.


 

May this be a far better year than the last, for us, and our followers.

By the numbers: to Love

A thousand miles of memories
have passed since our goodbyes
Hard to believe
it was yesterday
A hundred songs I’ve sung
poetic verse that stung
Lips wet to kiss
forbidden today
A score of sightings thought to be
you in periphery
Simple ghost tale
one haunted by love
A dozen days of purgatory
from town-to-town sans you
Eternal wind
born wild and free
A single door that separates
passion from pleasure
Treasures unfurled
turn key and open
Joy
Jubilation
Ecstacy
Euphoria
She never stopped waiting for you

 

[Another contribution from JW.]

Utter Bliss

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Utter bliss.
Welcomed.
Tested.
Pure, yet fleeting.
Six-months at best,
following a twenty-year void.
From the black hole to exaltation.
From nothingness… to “BOOM!”
When independence craves
depended on…
And single accepts double and change.
Though change changed once more…
and again…
and has yet to cease.

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Bliss is gone.
No tracks to follow.
Perhaps a whisper.
A thought.
Ethereal.
A dream… often forgotten,
since dreams are equally fleeting.
And yet Love remains without Bliss.
Still tested.
Still pure… Even more than before.
No dross remains.
Vaporized.
The fiery furnace of life’s trials.
Sparing nothing…
except perhaps,
the final curtain call.
Yet Love does more than linger.
Love survives.
Strong.
Committed.
Resolute.
Though Love’s thirst is quenched
through a daily rain of tears.
Tears at the hands of the infamous foe
who chased young Bliss away.
Sickness was who came calling,
and he did not come alone.
Masked… disguised.

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Wegener’s Granulamatosis Vasculitis
and the dreaded Zodiac sign:
The breast variety.
Metastasized.
Terminal.
A battleground of flesh.
A battle six-plus years and still going.
Like all wars, it’s taken its toll.
The battleground is ravaged.
Consequently, only those engaged
in the battle know the true worth
of the battlefield where blood is spilled.
The womb of war.
The birth of pain.
Yet True Love sees passed the scars,
into the thousand-yard stare,
and never loses sight of a soul-mate.
Hand-to-hand and heart-to-heart combat,
no matter how the flesh may change.
Thus, the loss of Bliss is bearable
as long as Love remains.
Yet woe to all where Love departs…
and woe upon woe
where he or she’s never been.

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[Another contribution by JW: art and words. We appreciate everything he’s done for us as we continue to battle the medical needs we’ve been facing.]

One good turn deserves another

Eager, her beaver, to be touched and tongued. My lips
explored her adorable feminine tits. My eyes
assessed her breasts. I caressed the curvaceous hips,
the slim limbs, and admired with desire the smooth thighs.

Fingers often lingered upon cheek and neck. I sniffed
the subtle whiff of perfume. I lapped up the taste
of crook and nape. My fingers continued to drift
along ribs and tummy: goosebumps aroused along the waist.

Expanding and contracting trails that lazily strayed,
descending upon her mons veneris like predators. Felt arousal of prick,
but denial with a smile, more arousal, wait awhile: self-betrayed.
Penis pleading for juicy pussy: rock hard, a throb, a kick.

“I will tease to please,” I said. She shifted her legs in ascent.
Rolled to her side, spread her legs wide, allowed me to pass.
Alas, no gas! To the dark joy behind, I licked as I went
from clit to pussy to perineum to ass.

Spreading buttocks wide, arousal alive, urged me to begin.
I descend the sexy slopes and proceed to the puckered goal.
Quick flicking, tasteful licking, her crotch pressed my chin.
Her legs quivered and shivered from her tongue-wormed hole.

Her sensation afire, desired consummation. She untucked
her legs and lay waiting, panting with an expression of joy.
Arousingly charged, clit quite enlarged and aching to be sucked.
Clawing the sheets, far better than any fuck toy.

She inspected my erection. I perused her pussy with a stare
from mons level. A visual feast with eyes wide
I gazed thru the landscaped tuft of pubic hair
to the twin hills of breast beyond, sloping to opposite sides.

Returning to task, I scanned her crotch complete
from clit to anus. I relished the grace
of female genitalia. I tasted the delectable treat.
She shivered as I tongued the sliver of her clit: a slow deliberate pace.

Sucking with lips the miniscule dome or clitoral head.
With tongue’s tip I tickle the sensitive nub and groove.
She’s thrilled, I can tell. “Don’t stop!” she pleadingly said.
“More! More!” And achingly slow I did move.

Intently, but gently, my tongue trailed her pleasure place.
Inner and outer lips, enjoying the moments down
in each crook and cranny, then often would retrace
inch-by-inch to her throbbing nub-like crown.

Excitement within swelled. New desires did come
as I traveled her engorged labial walls.
I teased nerve-endings with finger and thumb
while pleasuring her pussy. I soon felt kat’s claws.

She did gyrate when I did penetrate steady and slow.
With every stroke I made a grinding twist with my cock.
Her undulation from my penetration, then she whimpered “Oh!”
She panted and moaned, elated from the pleasure shock.

Two slick fingers in her ass for multiple stimulation,
while prick pounding pussy grows hard as a rock.
She melted and swooned with euphoric sensations
and the inner sluices with her juices began to unlock.

Immeasurable pleasure urged thrusts double-quick.
Spasms, orgasms, vaginal and anal convulsing complete.
Sated lust, stress released, spunk filled and thick.
She said, “Can we take-5 Daddy, then flip me over and repeat?”

 

Compatibility of the Sexes

JW, from JW’s Creative World, is one of the few people we’ve met since beginning A&k. He has put his blog on hiatus indefinitely; which is sad, because his creative talents span a variety of mediums: writing, art, and music just to name a few. In fact, that’s what inspired us to meet, since I dabble in various creative outlets, as well.

However, he has graciously allowed kat and I full access to his work. He’s done this out of the kindness of his heart after learning about our situation, which makes it difficult to have fresh material ready to post on our twice a week schedule.

While he lives a D/s lifestyle his creative work covers many areas, and we plan on exhibiting most of them: interspersed with our posts.

Kat and I have grown to love him (and his pretty lady and sexy sub) like family in the relatively short time we’ve known them. And we thank him from the bottom of our hearts for his self-less gesture and use of his creative work.

We hope you enjoy his diverse talents as we do.

 

Compatibility of the Sexes

 

When a good girl and a bad boy get betrothed,
he glimpses heaven while she catches hell,
their sex life is fast, furious, sporadic, and fleeting,
and the only heavenly treatment she’ll ever get
is during recuperation from her injuries in Saint something-or-other Hospital.

When a bad girl and a good boy get hitched
it is heaven up front but hell in the end
when he finds out the “good” sex was only her way
of gaining financial security through divorce of another love-struck fool.

When a bad boy and bad girl get together
their marriage is hell on Earth… but
with a sex life so heavenly satisfying
it must inevitably damn them for eternity.

When a good boy and good girl join as one
their marriage is the perfect union, heaven on Earth
with a sex life so hellishly boring
it can actually earn them sainthood
unless, of course, they pretend to be bad in the bedroom.