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Before A Midsummer Night's Dream
Before A Midsummer Night's Dream · Interracial Love · Memories are important to me, specifically the good ones. I would concur that it's the small things one does during their lifetime that are going to be the most impactful on them when they go back to cherish. In my 25 years, I've tried to make as many of these little moments for myself as possible. I hope to continue doing so.
As I circumvent the cobwebs and flip the grimy pages in the convolution that is my brain, I still recall a balmy Friday afternoon during the summer of '14. There have been many days around here where the climate could make it feel exactly like so. Though reiterating: The minutiae of details which were taking place during that day are what I think a person can treasure the most. Even if specifics become lost, they may blend and be a larger whole after a time. Speaking for myself, I now see the sun shining on that day more than I'd cared to notice then.
I turned 19 that May. My self-confidence had been improving along with what amount was already there from the time I'd graduated from high school. I did so with the Class of 2012. I was on a tight leash that was loosened by my parents for the remaining year of my minority. They removed the leash when I became an adult by law the year later. I had finally escaped the austerity enforced in my orthodox household during my upbringing, and in lieu, set out with the intention to experience and to make myself happy. To think less of what was expected of me by those who play God, and more of my perennial passions. I'd recognized my flaws. I've never stated to anyone that I'm a good person. Never. But I felt that helping other people would be helping me; what else can we do?
I pondered on a medical field or social work — and a steady source of income, of course. I knew this was going to be a tremendous undertaking, but I was adamant when I set my mind to something important to me. I'd been told so by teachers — people of authority outside the homestead. A university accepted me. It required a distanced move several hours away. I would have to do this on my own without support or enthusiasm from my family. Yes, I was frightened; I don't blame myself. But this was what it took — to overcome my dread and doubt while bearing in mind my goals, which I purposely left petty and superfluous so they would be feasible to complete and not damage me from unexpected failure to fulfill them.
By my pragmatic, if not sardonic philosophies by default, expecting good things to happen in this world's rocky landscape leads to disappointment in many cases. Maybe then I wasn't aware of this factuality, but I am now. I recognize. I stop to think about those without. The body I am in, the innocent lusts I have, the blessings bestowed to me by God are all good things, so long as I humble myself and take heed to what I know to be right. They will not be denied by me, rejected by me, or taken for granted, as often as I can remind myself.
As contradictory and ironic as the following account will seem, I'm only human, none of which is perfect, all of which is pardoned.
II
I always knew what the passions and lusts aforementioned were. They seemed like untapped and beautiful things that escaped my domineering nature of cynicism and restraint. Even early on in my childhood, I was inquisitive; whatever was there had always been a part of me. I could not, or rather, was forbidden to act on any carnal urges — rightfully so, since I was only a child. Yet, with all the boundaries and restrictions and doctrines of what is “Right” and what is “Wrong” firmly implanted, there was exposure to so many sexual contexts and innuendos, nonetheless — not only that but other discretions that a young girl should not be allowed to eavesdrop on. I was being informed well before my sanctioned time by three older siblings and made fully aware of how things plied.
My brothers had no capacity for complex emotions such as concepts of morality or guilt — a typical encounter for me then. They did not care. They brought their rambunctious peers for visits while Dad would work around the clock, Mom would drink her gin and tonic, and I'd impinge on their misdeeds. Why did my dad ignore me? It bothered me more than he knew and would affect me down the trail. Why did my mom harbor such an indefensible hatred towards me? Was there something in me that she saw in herself, or was it merely me, having been the “accidental” fourth? The two live-in grandparents, who were Dad's parents, just made everything that much more awkward and unbearable. Why go into it? No more time should be wasted dwelling on any of them; the less, the better. I could not breathe in that household.
In any case, it wasn't much different around my contemporaries. Only, I'd be the one to refute classmates' naive banter and false notions by having known it all in advance when sat down in sex-ed, courtesy of three dick-headed and repugnant siblings with age and primacy on their side. It was a stark contrast when compared to the ridicule I would languish in the home, having not known jack shit when gunned down by a belligerent firstborn, ten years older than me. Sex is so ubiquitous that it's just impossible to avoid anymore — if it ever was possible to avoid it — especially with my level of drive. In one way or another, everything will pertain to it unless a prude, which I am certainly not. I was innately fascinated by it. I asked harmless questions. Why did my bros have to be so mean about it?
I'm not having any self-pity here; this is only an explanation of what life was like during my childhood and growing up in my family — a veritable psychiatric field day. My clusterfuck of a house demanded a 1955 mindset, regardless of whatever was going on behind closed doors. Mommy and Daddy never sat me down for a tête-à-tête about birds and the bees, or anything else for that matter. My parents and grandparents would force their lectures on love but never practiced it themselves or set an example. And I mean the sum of what love's supposed to be like, what I understood it should be like, not just the sexual elements that intrigued me the most.
This hypocrisy angered me. What the fuck was this? Love — it is all I wanted to feel but was unable to receive it by any means there.
After all that the abstinence had cost me through puberty, I planned to change things for myself by finding love elsewhere, and I would demand nothing in return for it.
III
Work was almost out on that sunny day sometime in June. I'd been interning in several hospitals and facilities while I studied for a planned degree in pharmacology. As the end of my stint approached, I thought more of my plans for that nightfall and how to pull them off to perfection. These non-sequitur thoughts were unsuited for any run-of-the-mill and holier-than-thou work ethic. They flew around with the rest of the hustle and bustle incessantly going on up there that I would do anything, short of opting out, to mitigate. They made me fidget in my seat, causing my muscles to tense and my breathing to fluctuate.
To only exacerbate my uneasiness and anxiety, an inbound text message had arrived from my newfound friend, Naomi. I don't recall precise words, but I'd guess something along the fringes of, “Are you going out for scalps later?” Over the years I've known her, she'd often refer to my newly acquired boons as “scalps,” or in another form of acrimony which — coming from how endearing and friendly she was — would still put it lighter than I was in my behavior towards most of those poor kids. I was coming out from an inferno of juvenile years that were indeed affecting both me and my surroundings. I regret it now; I do. I've hurt; yes, I have.
Naomi's perspectives and definitions of propriety were different from mine — ones I frequently envied. I'd met her for the first time in January of that year. She'd been a neighbor when I decided to get out of the dorm and rent something instead. I was still 18 then, and she had six years on me at her 24. From my first impression, she did not seem to carry any hint of whatever constitutes a Child left in her at all. She was self-governing, incorrigible in her mold, and who she distinguished herself as — no one would be changing her mind. I admired those aspects and sensed genuine wisdom in this chick.
Naomi quickly became a close friend to me, as I'd moved hours from my home and knew no one in this sprawling and daunting megalopolis beforehand. She saw my electrons and only confuted them with her more overbearing protons. I learned that it was only futility to be anything other than happy and amiable around her. I grew up with antonyms of joy. She had an overwhelming ardor I'd not spent ample time with before.
I eventually opened up to her about my past. My kitsch is considered old-school, old-fashioned, and I have no problem with that. In an age of social media, I may have — or I may not have — a different definition than bulks do of what a friend is and who gets placed on the 'Friends List.' It's a close circle, and in effect, a small list that is pretty damn important to me. I consider Naomi to be one of the people on said list. I mention her extensively because she became a pillar that supported my happiness. Her impeccable judgment regarding getting the most out of what this life had to reward me was never questioned or depreciated. I was indebted to her.
By that point, I had possessed what the forms of those rewards were continually able to come in, allusive pun intended. I was already being made aware of the effortless perfection in which my soul resided. I made efforts anyhow — if only to maintain my temple. I went out of the way to run miles every day during the week. I was only continuing what I'd been doing as a form of escapism since junior high. I had myself conditioned to the point of feeling like I could keep on figuratively running away from my troubles in perpetuity. I loved it like an addiction — “Runner's High,” they call it. It made me feel sexy.
People — suspected to be in the same frame of mind as me, e.g., 'on the hunt' — would look at me as I went past them in my own made world, where the cosmos centered around the area where the middle of my foot would connect to the asphalt. I caught many gotten glances from the corners of my eyes, which I consider dark and intimidating. If I did lock my formidable gaze with the odd pedestrian on my cool-down period, nine out of ten times, I'd cause them to glance off in another direction as swiftly as they could. Any place that didn't involve the prerequisite set of balls it takes to meet my peep, continue inwards, and break my barriers. However, the tenth time consisted of those sure enough of themselves to take a plunge and brave a journey into my complex irides intent to burn away any veil in theirs. Destinations varied.
I would arrive home to my leased residence in a cold sweat and dampened clothes to undress for a hot shower in a ritualistic manner. The release from the confinements of my sports bra only made me feel like I could breathe the more so. As I poured out of the nylon stitching, my breasts would instantaneously settle back into their rightful perky place and be permitted to jut from my chest in freedom, just as God had intended for Eve's to do so before the Fall.
I shimmied myself out of what thin fabrics remained on the lower portion of my framework — hips and all that is divine between my legs were revealed to me, reminding me of my luck again. I knew what I saw in the mirror's reflection; I was not blind to a familiar sight. I eyed my curves and contours and the landing strip I regularly like to rock on my mound. It was abundantly clear what I was beholding: I was the quintessential woman who could have anything she fancied. It was entirely my choice to ditch the conviction and despair I suffered through adolescence and enjoy being in my niche instead. What a hedonist I was.
I would undo the knotted bun resting atop my head to let my blackened hair fall past my shoulders and onto my skin. I could detect a familiar and intoxicating fragrance in each of the strands. The moisture and scent from having pounded on the pavement not long before would also be in the air. It would mix with lingering aromas from whatever perfumes I'd sprayed in it from that morn. They joined with the traces of shampoo and conditioner from the previous night. The amalgamation became a tang of raw Sexual Energy that cannot be withstood or further described without the risk of raving. A lot can happen in a bathroom before a shower.
In times like 'in front of the mirror after a run,' I feel an aura surrounding me. I see myself in my purest and most vulnerable form as my damp and weighted tresses brushed against tender bits. Naked and battling with an abiding lust, found in spiritual sectors that cannot be labeled by anatomy, I would do things to myself in front of these mirrors — I'd been doing so in secrecy for quite a while. I would explore places, touch parts, and imagine my empty spaces made occupied by things I was, in my infancy, only able to catch glimpses and then lose sight of, left to have them in my dreams. Later on, I would see them but never be allowed to feel them in my presence. These dreams became increasingly vivid.
But by that summer in '14, the need for imagination and improvisation was no longer necessary. I had felt the sensation of a cock pressing into my flesh and was able to say so. Even if a phantom in my time of solitude, I oft feel nerves on zones inside me where I want the head to bear the brunt of its punishment most of all and induce the climacteric point of no return. In these moments, I cast aside whatever piety and temperance I have over myself and realize how bad I need fucked.
My cock craving would arrive in times as such — the times that were so commonly encountered during weeks consisting of long days with nil opportunity to sate my needs and cause the build-up and frustration to become that much more acute. These times called for me to do something about it. They bring me back to the Friday reminisced on, the reply to my friend's question, and whatever lucky guy — the emblematic scalp — would get his chance to serve as this completion for me as the five days of absence waned, and the weekend drew nearer.
IV
I replied to Naomi; asked her if she knew where I could go to make this happen. She had lived in the City all her life and was a social animal. It amazed me how she could throw names and addresses at me at the drop of a hat — any place where something was going down. It wasn't long after that when she told me, “Go here,” gave me the deets and coordinates, and wished me well. I planned to brave it alone that night since I was working some distance from home.
More and more routinely, I found myself still out, waking up in strangers' beds and being gone even well into the next day. It was becoming a custom for me to be prepared for this to happen. I would keep clothes in my car, influenced by whatever vogue was going on; lots of clothes. I kept stocked on survival essentials, too, i.e., food and drink — mainly trail mixes and bottled water. I had plenty of cosmetic and hygienic supplies to maintain my beauty and preserve my health. I could do work while sitting in the car if obligated. If I needed sleep, it was trivial enough to recline the seat. I was able to be out and about more by these means. Staying or fleeing a scene was all contingent upon how it was and the vibes I was feeling.
After I got out of the job, I went to find the park I'd been using to run laps during that week. Though, today, I would run only to a point where I'd not work up so much fatigue and make a sweaty mess of myself — which, with my stamina, took some work. From what I remember, it was supposed to be an open house slated for six o'clock or so — a later part of the evening. It would be no more than a fifteen-minute drive from where I was. I had plenty of time. Also, I liked to show up late at these things. Exercising was not only delightful to me but my way of cleansing the deed through its health benefits. It was my absolution from whatever substances and sordid activities I would undoubtedly be indulging in.
During those years, I spent time playing dress-up in my vehicle. I'd strip out of my work attire and into sports gear for my runs. Then I would return and swap back into something suitable for whatever I'd be doing after that. In many instances, I would be within plain view as I was changing in the car. In retrospect, I'm surprised I don't need neck surgery as a result of how much surveying I was doing while I switched outfits to see if I was being ogled at by some perv. I told myself nobody saw me making a nouveau riche bimbo out of herself, but maybe I was, in my subconscious, wishing someone had. Perhaps someone did see me once or twice, but that's another story.
My black Honda Accord was like a home for me, pillow in the back and all. If push came to shove, I kenned I could always go to my car and nap there in safety. Unless close, there was no reason for me to drive back home. I could be spending that time doing something productive or heading towards something that made me feel good instead. I was being taught different things now; to love myself and cease in the denial of loving it. I wasted none of what coupled youth and adulthood instigated. At 19, I was milking these advocations for everything they were worth, although I never wavered from my own beliefs; my Faith. Love is at the center of it; the rest is redundant to me.
With that in mind, I arrived back after I had concluded my jog. I always felt carefree and sensuous after the fact, being glad it was done and feeling much healthier. I threw something on and freshened up. I wanted myself as flaunted and sultry as possible, sparing no expense or giving any pretense as to what I would be looking for at this shindig. I made sure not to hold back on Chanel and L'Oréal and make my hair as liberated, salacious, and untamed as possible. I swallowed whatever lurking fret there was and brushed aside whatever bullshit second thoughts I had, then ignited the engine to hear the radio blasting A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay. I remember it.
V
It was dusk when I got there. I parked a reasonable distance away on the curb and walked to the address Naomi gave me. A driveway went up for a bit that led me to a two-story home that looked to be an upper-middle-class sort of place. There was activity going on. Lots of people were there; I was not counting. The age group appeared anywhere between their teens like me, into their early thirties. I could walk right in and assimilate myself without anyone noticing, and I was all right with that. I figured most of it was going on in the backyard. There was a lot of landscaping around the front and a fence, so I had to go through the front door to get there, which was wide open.
It seemed warm and stuffy when I stepped in, especially for the intermingling Latin blood running hot in my veins. The lights were down; I recall candlelight. I remember the usual smells of food and spirits. The familiar odor of marijuana was also in the air. I was 19 and very much underage, doing something I knew was not allowed, as if I was going to let that deter me. A blond-haired mistress I did not know walked up and hugged me. She said some indistinct things I don't remember now. She might have been the owner of the house since she was a bit older. Whoever she was, she looked to be well on her way, like she had taken something. I wasn't sure what was going on yet. I could not hear her, either. It was loud in there, enough to make a girl go deaf with the proper soundtrack going.
People were yelling over each other as the typical EDM and pop music blasted on a stereo system. Music is at the epicenter of a good party. There have to be good tunes to have a good party, in my opinion. Of course, I did not expect to hear anything underground, abrasive, or hardcore, like a gabber at their rave or mosher in their pit. But the night was young, and so was I. At 19, a bit of what I knew was passed vicariously through the older folks I was becoming acquainted with — my friend Naomi was one of them. And her being 24, a sophisticated and diverse individual, they only got older from there. She was regularly around people in their thirties and upwards, back to when parties were happening in the '00s, '90s, and '80s.
I hear they were tumultuous times, and Naomi had been exposing me to those capable of saying they were there. The only way to be there was to be there. They carried no smartphones back then, nor did they need them. Technology did not matter since it did not exist. It was the memory and the moment, nothing more. Whatever knowledge was in my academics and studies did nada for me while I was subject to those circumstances. What many of them attained was my definition of wisdom — having lived on Earth longer than me. Which is to say, they had witnessed more of what reality is and felt more pain than I had. The years they'd spent listening and partaking, as I was doing, had paid off.
I could not compete with any of it, but she let me in on their private jokes, notwithstanding, and involved me in their antics as often as we were around each other. When I went to events with Nomi and whoever else she had along, there was no question about how confident I was. It meant a great deal to have her as a friend and to be able to call her one. As all this was happening, she confided with me just as much as I was confiding in her. With all that emotion and proximity, not to mention her talents in temptation, she began touching me and welcomed me to touch her, too. Lots of frivolous hugs were going on, but then they became more compelling.
I did not know if she was manipulating me into something — if she was, it was working. She had the advantage of seniority and being the Cooler Cucumber than me, not to mention having a charisma that I lacked. She deadlocked me in my eyes all the time — a powerful thing to me. It reached the point when she trapped me on my lonesome one day, got me to open my mouth, and let her stick her tongue in it. It ended with her leading me by the hand and both of us on her bed, fucking one another. She pulled this off even amid my sobriety and having had considered myself a very straight female before then. Wow. Kudos to me, more power to her.
Naomi became the first woman I was intimate with — she opened that gateway for me, broke that boundary and taboo. She was breaking lots of those not long after that. Things I never imagined myself doing began taking place, and I was doing them; things were taking me, more ambiguous puns intended. As time went on, she felt more like companionship and someone I could place my trust in and lower my guard around. It has remained as such to this day.
VI
Since I was alone at this particular event on that night, I wanted to be cautious. I was being analyzed head to toe by strangers left and right. I felt their eyes already peeling my duds off. During a warm night in June, there was not much clothing on me, to begin with — all my prominent features were out on display for them. I had done this on my own before and was discovering what worked for me, albeit tentatively.
I needed to find a spot to settle in to get my bearings, with a drink in my hand that would put me on the path to enough of a buzz of courage to make a move on someone — or allow them to make theirs. A year farther down the highway, I might have done something insane and not thought twice, but I did not want to overdo anything here this evening. I was on my own, which is already taking a risk — too serious of one for my better part of judgment then.
I found an unoccupied piece of patio furniture outside in the backyard. It was more spacious and less constricting than being inside the sweltering domicile. More air and fewer clusters of crowds brushing into my Safe Zone allowed me to relax and contemplate. People were in their groups and cliques and saturated in their confidences for reasons obvious to anyone. In that sort of environment, being ingratiated within a group makes a state of mind different from when unescorted. I felt withdrawn and homesick at this function that night, to be sure, drinking alcohol in my teens and prone to rash decisions. I had to remain vigilant and keep my wits about me.
This garden party had been carrying on for a while now. I saw people dancing, fornicating, and rambling incoherently across the yard from what looked to be drug use, alleged to be ecstasy. I saw a surreptitious group of males, the type known all too well to me by then. I assumed they were selling — my assumption proved correct after time spent sitting with my drink and policing them.
Club drugs were still out of my depth then, and taking something like MDMA — or taking any substance for that matter — without someone to trust nearby leads to bad decision-making and potential catastrophe. It's a wonderful way to wreck your entire life in an instant — and be left with the sickening hindsight of, “Why did I have to do it? I could have Just Said No. Everything would be fine right now if I had.” Thoughts such as those make me think of what is taken for granted, not to mention my health. With what I was doing for a better amount of six years, it is a miracle I am even alive and not in a coma or dead. Which is worse, the former or the latter?
There would be no fucking way I would be taking anything on that night, let alone pay anything out of pocket for whatever insalubrious garbage it may have been cut with. I was searching around for someone who appeared to be in a comparable situation as me: they were at this festivity to get laid and bust their nut — no cons, illegalities, or ODs attached. Nothing wrong with a little lovin'.
I had been there for at least half an hour now. I recall having a Dark and Stormy — a drink I have thoroughly enjoyed over the years. I doubt the rum was anything from a top shelf, but volume is volume. Speaking of volume, since the time I'd strolled through the home, the music was getting better. Maybe they'd replaced whoever was doing the DJing with someone who knew their shit — a connoisseur who viewed music as an art form, as I did. It sounded to be deep-cuts of minimal techno, vocal trance, et cetera. Echoes of numerous, unknown artists and tracks that someone could quite easily only ever lay ears on once during a lifespan and then never hear again.
Hearing the unheard has always been a big deal to me. I thrive for a moment where I will hear something to fall in love with — or take offense from. As cruel as it seems to say to anybody sober, genres such as techno and trance will only sound better while rolling on uppers or while bombed out of their gourds on herb — or, in my case, that eve, floating on alcohol.
But please permit me to be a hoity-toity, high and mighty, la-di-da ball-buster by repudiating what was literally just said: Don't do drugs; don't even drink hard liquor. It's the smart thing to do.
VII
I remember attempting a conversation with a couple of passersby if you could call it a conversation. Most of what they were mumbling to me about was idiosyncratic gibberish. Obviously Zonked. I told them, delivered as a fait accompli, what I was here for — my thirst needed to be quenched by some sort of personified punch after the stressors of my existence throughout that week, hither. While I continued to sip my beverage and soak in the sounds, I looked for a suitable other to aid me in accomplishing this feat. It would be an extreme responsibility for them.
Most of the guys I saw there thought themselves larger than life, and justly so, I guess. They had girls with them already. It's possible actual relationships were going on, e.g., boyfriend and girlfriend. Most looked thunderous and hyper. Always something to say. They frolicked in their esteem.
Were I to walk up to these characters or them to me, dictation would be on their terms. They could easily cast me aside and find someone looking nearly as good as I was that night, and I was looking severely good at 19; it would be untenable to deny or just plain mean to tell a Missy otherwise. I was getting tons of inspections, lonely and abandoned as I was. Time was running out for me to choose, and the alcohol was in effect.
VIII
I saw one of the smaller assemblages that looked to be more phlegmatic than the norm. They casually conversed and gave no evidence of having any terminal impairment. From a stone's throw away from my location, they looked like respectable working-class — blasé and hospitable; no flamboyance. One guy was the odd man out. He had no Lady on his arm, as the other two Gentlemen did. He looked to be a real Somebody.
I would say he was in his upper twenties. His physique looked active, rugged, and undemanding — a type I loved to tempt. His hair was dark, dense, and wavy — enough of it to run my fingers through to feel good about myself. He had maintained facial hair, but not too maintained. He seemed rough around the edges, with nothing tapered or outstanding. His clothing — a distinctly recollected dark and drab T-shirt and tarnished denim jeans — fit loosely enough for comfort and snug enough to show off his sculpt — one that looked lean with a fatally underestimated power behind it. Hell yeah, I'd tap that!
I was eyeing him up and down, gorgeous as I was, and he saw me doing it. He was participating in a chat with his buddies and their dates while he was more and more glancing over at me, sitting on my own, trying to pretend like he was not affected. I wondered if they were talking about me — it looked like they were touching on something. From what I was observing, he seemed to have a reserved opinion of himself. His friends appeared that way, too. There was no complacency or delusion present.
I was stricken to carry myself with the same decorum in ordinary cases, but I was horny and infatuated with myself at the minute, not to mention Sloshed. I thought the man was looking at me and assuming right away that there would be no bet in hell of scoring a nasty summit of a number like me on that night. Too modest for his own good. Or was I wrong? Was I too conceited and haughty for my own good? I wondered what kind of beast of a Cock was skulking behind the excess seen in his weathered jeans like it was some predator waiting in ambush. Each seam and tear in those pants he bore so eloquently were more than likely earned by his merit at whatever tedious daily grind he had, rather than been pre-installed at purchase merely to resemble liveliness.
As I continued studying him, I felt my mouth salivate. My breath began to elevate. My muscles were contracting, and I was fidgeting in my chair like I'd been doing at work earlier. What charm lay bare and void betwixt my thighs was going from moist to damp, damp to wet, and throbbing with each heartbeat. Steamy thoughts were going on in my fucked up and dirty head. I queried how much I could get away with here — Niña Loca, arguing with the Voices. The hand that did not contain a plastic cup involuntarily traveled down to paw at the soft Hill found in my shorts. I oftentimes do this with the knuckles bearing inward — really, there is no control over it. Then I felt my face begin to tingle and my mouth abruptly dry. I took another swig of 40 as if that would alleviate the dryness in the long run.
My chest became tight, and my heart began to pulsate with even greater intensity — so much more that I felt it shocking my body from root to stem. My adrenaline was kicking in — something I still needed to get used to feeling. I wanted this dude to put his brawny hands all over me and force me to moan for him as he fucks me to climax. Oh, God, how I needed it. I wasn't going to wait around for it to happen. I got up and took concealed, stumbled strides athwart the grass and over to him.
IX
He grew taller as I neared — at least a head's higher than my 5'5''. Oh yeah, this fella was interested, so was I. Definitely a Smash. Something was trying to click here. His eyes lit up a bit, deep and complex as they were, like mine. Still, he did not turn them away from me to stare at his feet or act like he didn't know what was happening. I sensed he had assurance in himself, whether he cared to concede to it or not.
As I landed my sights on the more intricate of his features, it became clear why he did. He was indeed much older than I, more into his early thirties. This was not some boy as green as the ground I stood on; it was a full-fledged Man. With the age comes the experience, as I was going to find out about later on. A man's age advantage over me also stirs my more discreet and frailer of psychological quirks — the lack of a Father Figure. Where I was invisible to my dad, I had found an adjacent alternative, who did appreciate me and lavished me in sensuality, furthermore.
I'm a believer in Occam's razor — that the Quickest Avenue is probably going to be the right one to go down. Short and sweet; no meandering BS or trying out new techniques. I asked him if he was with someone. He took my meaning, shook his dear head in a neutral expression, and told me No. We shared the same policy, apparently — candid, concise, and straight to business; this is not like the movies. I asked if I could be with him. He said Yes — just like that. I went up to meet his chest, albeit hesitant from the slight jolted shock to my nervous system when I realized he was more seasoned than I had anticipated. But he extended a sinewy arm to give me signs I had nothing to fear from him.
An indefinable surge of warmth went over me. Feelings of Happiness and Acceptance flooded inside as I hugged my body closer.
I was on his left; I remember it. He put his arm around me. He was a rock-solid Bull. I wanted to put my arm around him, too. When I did, it felt like trying to hug a bronze statue out of Ancient Rome. I felt out of my body so often during these escapades. It was something surreal like a déjà vu or feeling like I'd reached the pinnacle of a precipice, one where reality only existed inside my mind and falling off the ledge would turn it into a black nihility, like before being born into a soul.
I wished to rest my head on him and shut my eyes, then open them to see if I'd wake up someplace else — I didn't want to wake up; I wanted to go nowhere else but 'Here' and 'Now.' He had a scent of cologne that merged with a nostalgic hint of tobacco that I grew up around in a family of smokers; casual, and chain. His conferees were, as I inferred: Around their late twenties and precisely the kinds of laid-back folks that I could correlate to and mellow out with. One might even label it esoteric — no conformity, only themselves.
There was an introduction. We exchanged our names — of which now I cannot recall. Mine was Melanie, and it is appalling that I cannot remember the name of my new boyfriend as I write in the present tense. His pals seemed tranquil and only spoke about as much as need be. They continued having a conversation about something that I draw blanks on now. I think it was work-related. I gathered they were co-workers.
What was running through my mind was who I had my arm around. My hand and its fingers lightly traced the finer details and digits of his spine. They went up to the lower parts of his neck to brush his hairline. I was touching him with greater zeal and affection at an alarming rate of attrition. He was considering it, and I could see it. Who knew I had it in me? I had to raise my head to meet his height. My eyes were looking up and to his. Even if he turned away for a moment to those he was already familiar with, as if to equivocate my presence, I did not falter — my sight remained on him. This technique was not just for him to enjoy but also was a means for me to read him — to try my damnedest to discern what kind of man this was. What kind of secrets did I need to know about, hmm? Eye contact. It's important to me.
I wanted to trust this stranger enough to give him Carte Blanche and let him have total Dominion over me and all that could be his. Capriciousness had nothing to do with the decision I had made — and despite my inebriation, while crossing over the lawn, I knew what I was doing here. It was the End Game in mind — for me to have my brains Fucked out in earnest and their gray matter suspended in Orgasmic Euphoria. Such has always been my Vice. The rest is impertinent; diversions or tactics to lead me to it.
When they met my soft skin, I recalled the grain of his hands calloused and stalwart, like a man's hands should feel. As I expected, this was an active human being with a firm grip on a very clingy gal who coveted to get a lot more of her parts gripped on before the roosters had a chance to crow at sun-up. What I did not expect was how much this buckaroo knew what he was doing. It leads me to believe that this is why I still retain the night, even over six blurry years later, where I would find myself in similar predicaments during every week's end.
X
I finished my Juice and nonchalantly tossed the obligatory Red Solo Cup elsewhere, scattering the condensed ice cubes and soggy rum-soaked lime wedge amongst the turf. A Party will be a Party, and this one was not mine. A proper Fucking Mess — “Fucking” in verb form — for the host/hostess to clean up after all's said and done is, in consolidated fact, a Given. I now had both of my lovely hands vacant and available to touch him, as my inborn omnipotence concerning these libidinous affairs deemed fit.
I edged myself from his side and into his front, though not all the way. Of course, this rose his attention; why would it not? No dialogue was going on between us, and I was quite all right with that. The Music played. The Multitudes in the yard carried on hooping and hollering like not a thing was transpiring between He and Me. My hands were running up and down along his sides and anywhere else stimulating they could conquer. I have been told countless times in so many ways about what it is like to feel my reception and bona fide sentiment via my touch.
I did not grab the Bulge I wanted so desperately to have in my clutches, quite yet. It's crucial not to overstep bounds, initially. I needed to wait for that moment, a critical one. I had a Good Vibe going on here; high hopes; this was most certainly a Catch. He “wasn't most guys,” and for once in a blue-fucking-moon in the Sky, this Truth was held to be self-evident. I wanted him to have it, this luscious body in its entirety. He did not have to prove a thing to a girl endeavoring to cultivate herself. I finally got him to focus on Me, Me, Me, and fuck all else — the narcissistic wench that I was.
In that instant, I banked on the Accolade to take place — the bit where this man took over for me and granted me something in return; quid pro quo. And he did.
First Base! He had been a downplayed professional, touching me in all the right places with all the right amounts of pressure applied. His friends were very polite, and I don't even remember when they shifted elsewhere to give us our privacy. The only thing I remember was how fast I was being pulled into his body from a forceful tug on my Butt and my lips meeting his. I felt my boobs flattened on his torso in their usual somatic fashion — always a treat. My eyes closed, and what was subtlety on both our parts quickly turned to passion. I had no choice in this anymore. I was being manhandled and forced to submission by this Tank, made to feel like a Woman.
My forearms went around his Hull and my fingers through his hair — any place I could nudge and turn on. All the while, he is doing the same things to me. Inside, I am growing aroused beyond words — driven to moan and whisper indiscretions and Freudian slips I would only utter from my authentic pleasure. My emotional state, psyche, and soul were being taken back to childhood — dismissal then, embrace now. They should be signals to this man — to any man — of how much I was getting into this. I was 'F4M/DTF/NSA,' unequivocally.
He had taken his Big Bat and hit the Baseball well into the outfield, if not a home run, so he rounded to Second Base without the obligation to halt on the first plate. The heat and waves from his approval and endorsement enveloped me. I was standing on tippy-toes and then felt a drag in the small of my back by a stern and assertive hand. I was as closely knit to his body as allowable with our clothes still on. My kisses grew more adventurous and liberal, of which happy campers have told me are as great as my touch. My tongue was doing its handiwork; he impressed me with his. He was pulling up my leg to rest against his midsection as if to lift me from the ground and spare me my encumbrance. I'll admit, it was tough being Me sometimes.
He had his other hand grabbing into my tight Ass in the interim — a lot of Ass to grab into. Courtesy of a South-American heritage, the Brazilian Butt Lift came with the Package. As he did this, it caused everything so tender and bewitching to the commonfolk to stretch apart and shoot waves of exhilaration through me, from the top of my pointy hat, to where I sit on a broomstick, to the tips of my toes. I like it when my backside is played with and violated by a stronger counterpart, 'tis true.
I emphasize: With all that is Corporeal, simultaneously existing with all that is Conceptual, the pleasure I feel from this is Incommunicable. I felt another brutish hand betwixt my pregnable legs and its fingers pressing into fertile valleys below the pubic bone. He knew precisely where my Clit was, even with my dungarees obstructing it. We — being me and Her — were assuredly in trouble. Giving this Paragon of Masculinity no sign of refusal and every incentive to take this to another level, I immediately placed my hand on the Bump of unmentionables in his slacks. I was, dying then and there to have it rammed inside me — through any choice of an entrance — to placate my yearning.
I felt how hard it was and only wondered of its potential size when I had it out to put my hands on it. It felt disconcertingly Huge. Too huge for captivity. I aimed to be the girl to release it for good.
XI
I do not know how long we were making out. What could have been minutes seemed like hours to me? Or is it the other way around? My guy and I were standing out in public, and this shit was getting Real. He was going under my skimpy little summertime top and touching my bare, prohibited flesh by that point. I wanted him to take it off. I didn't stand a possibility to surmount to this; he would just triumph in one way or another. He could put me over a desk, stick his Dick in my Ass and fuck the reading glasses off me, and there would not be a goddamned thing I could do to prevent it. I knew it. Despite all that Respect I had for myself, I was ready to accept being got and fucked back into my place on the Hierarchy — fucked out of the Feminist Mindset that liked to creep up on me. And him being a Hunk and having it all rock-hard in his pants because of me only validated my Role and gave me that much more esteem — I accorded him his hard-on.
He was digging me. On the Ortho-Novum, or whatever I was taking at the time, there was no cause for us to be concerned about unplanned cherubs should things come to that. We were ready for this to happen.
My areolae diminished, nipples coagulated. I felt numb from the cocktail in my system. What a lousy feeling sometimes. Contrary to what's said about alcohol warming the blood, the opposite is true — it reduces body temperature. I was getting cold. Finally, my boo gave me an interval to be able to tell him that I “really wanted to be alone with him” — more than likely in those selfsame words, or fewer — implying that I needed him to fuck me. He understood. This guy was exceptional, incredible. Most talk too much, but he was of few words. He explained to me, in brevity, that he lived only a five-minute stroll from the house party and asked me if I wanted to go there with him. I answered, “Yes," with as much sincerity and solemnity as I could muster from my drunken state. He put his arm around me, said some hazy farewells and valedictions to his associates, and lead me from the property.
XII
The eve had turned late, at least according to whatever Pecksniffian condescender declared that 'when the sun is down, then it should be deemed by us as such.' I didn't know the exact time, but as long as I'd lived with Time, it had to have been at least after 23:00. It was a peaceful walk, lit by the scattered lamps on the road and the city's glow and hum. Not a lot was spoken between him and me, though I remember trading compliments and informing him of how much I was looking forward to this.
We were enchanted by each other in the ambiance of the midnight that warded off the distant sounds of commerce, transit, and day-in-day-out hustle-bustle.
My other half had a sturdy arm around my curvy waistline, and a steady palm on my belly — my more supple touch sought to rouse him on his back while he did so. I was on his left side; I reckon it's the instinctive side of an alpha male for me to choose. It made me feel great; these fluttery butterflies in my head with his hold down there. I strived to stay as flirty and lewd as I could with my hookup. But mayhaps a more magical side of me gave a more devoted sort of touch to him, as plausible while in motion, as we neared wherever he lived. Maybe my caring touch hoped to sustain the comfort and warmth we had already shared at the gathering together. Perhaps it hoped to obtain more.
I can get a bit melancholy while on the sauce; it is a depressant, after all. I remember my touch carrying a gravity. Was my fling feeling it like it was? Nah, probably not. Regardless, my swooning and blushing from this tall and mysterious drifter, leading me to be fucked, may have evoked some facepalming drama. He had his arm around my waist. His hand pressed into my womb; it possibly jerked a tear in the corner of my eye or two. Maybe a little one. I can become very emotional when my guard is down like it was there; is that so bad?
I get this fucking longing to gratify another entity and receive something in return from it. It is kind of difficult to explain. Most of my frequented types did not give me this in return. I wanted to exploit some form of compromise — a chunk that was taken out of their armor by means I would hope to overhear during pillow talk, highs, trips, or something. I aspire to get a hard-ass such as this one with my arm wrapped around to open themselves up to me; make me feel meaningful, if not indispensable to them. Maybe then I would repay them by letting them see me open up — let them have a taste of what really flows through my heart.
Though I would find myself in similar situations shortly in the future, most of the liquor was subsiding by then; I only downed the one cup at the gala — granted, a large cup. The temperature had fallen, and I was freezing. I remember shivering and trembling, my teeth gritting, but this could have been from the looming plans. I will confess, I was slightly anxious since I knew what was coming. I was in this sexy rascal's grasp and heading with him towards the fabricated and murk unventured. It did not matter; it was a beneficial kind of worry, more of a therapeutic dilemma, or being in labor before childbirth — the kind that made me feel like a lady. I had to have been looking good — my heavy eyeliner to lose himself in; my myriad of long sable hair abound for him to stir and sway. He was treating me well. He had respect for me, and I knew he would not hurt me. I was fucking ready for this.
XIII
We'd reached our destination. I had deduced — all while keeping up with the tradition of oohing and awing over the immaterial and mundane on our way over — that the structure was a lesser idyllic sight, fixed closer to the street. It was more of a bungalow, with less of a yard in front — a bit of a far cry from the dazzling, bourgeois casa we'd trekked from in the minutes that felt like ages ago. But if it's Moolah I'm after, then they don't know me at all.
He took me around to the rear of the dwelling to unlock a door. The backyard was more spacious, only as I recall from the low level of visibility, it being past my bedtime. No moment was wasted going inside.
He closed the doorway. I heard the keys clank as they hit the kitchen counter. It was dim, save for a small tinted light seen in his living room — he had left it as such for us: dark. The curtains were closed. I heard a radio on low; 88.1, a jazz station — maybe to dissuade intruders? Or had he been planning something here all along? What space was there appeared to be well-kept, as if he wasn't home a lot — or when he was, he had a needy bombshell clinging to him as he did on this night. It had this atmosphere of order and neatness — that of an industrial and regulated one — a well-disciplined fellow. Though, it felt like a cozy and homey place to me, too.
I was only judging all of this in a brief instance because he turned to confront me. I gawked at him with a minor trace of hesitancy, as if I could not believe this was happening to me right now. He took me in his arms, and I melted into a fervent kiss.
XIV
You get out of me what you put into me. Most of the plights that I braved with men were pseudo and superficial. There was no real thought of affection from them. But this seemed offbeat. I was feeling it — the vibe and the passion. He was giving me everything he had while still being vertical with clothes on his person, and he was fucking good at it.
I don't know how long we were fondling one another or how we were veering towards the living room floor. As we did so, I understood that pieces of our clothing no longer wanted to be a part of the equation. I had my Beau's shirt off before we hit the rug. An effortless quintessence of a man was on top of me, giving it up to me, and I back to him. My top was still on, likely thinly sown and suggestive.
I must confess I had not been wearing a bra since that eventide when I left work. It is my habit to ditch a bra from my soma at any opportune respite I can get. I have claustrophobia, and they are so fucking choking and uncomfortable. And, yeah, what was underneath the required conduct and expectation for people to have raiment on their persona in Society was probably blatantly visible to the public, too — i.e., my voluptuous 30Ds. But why should I have to wear a bra on such a nefarious night? He already knew it, of course. His hands were well up into my shirt and directly applied to all that is magnificent back at the party. He had not seen them unfiltered yet, however. We were still kissing; necking; feeling each other up — making love with each other. Does this not seem like it could want to go on for an eternity?
My toned legs were wrapping around his back and pulling him in. I hugged him as close to me as I could. He touched me all over, was rubbing his hand on my shorts, right where I like it. Arousing noises were being born by me through concupiscence and pleasure. He stopped a moment, said nothing, only looked at me — my mood dazed and bewildered; my hair a scintillating and frantic mess, as he edged my top over my boobs. He paused another sec, and his eyes went wide. Nevertheless, he did not comment, and neither did I. Our facial expressions were our conversation. Maybe I would be getting another kind of 'facial' pretty soon. I looked at him and gave half a smirk with a feigned exhalation through my nose. He seized the meaning that I wanted this to proceed.
He smooched me all over my upstairs and became enraptured by the visage of my exquisite knockers handcrafted by God. I closed my eyes and felt hot inside as he did so, never ceasing to convey my profound affections to him. He was traveling further downstairs in his affections towards me. My scantily sported top, a fluorescent orange insert brand name as I hark back to, had been discarded — flung across the pad. Both of us still had our pants on, obscuring the most sacred and sought-after regions. His was all I was musing about; what kind of monstrosity would I have to tussle with here? I could only feel it confined to his pants — what I felt scared me and shortened my breath, made me bite a lip or two. I was so fucking aroused.
He was past my navel at this point; his tongue had been in there. My pants, still being equipped, did neither of us any good. It was time. He knew it, and so did I. He slid them down my legs and past my bare feet that draped over his shoulders. I have cute feet and toes, probably painted then. He saw them — before glimpsing at the shaven grandeur farther up, clearly conspicuous behind a decadent thong — and was not opposed to putting any part of me into his trap.
He did something like stick me in his mouth, and I did something such as stroke the excess of his penis in his jeans with my other foot if only to entice him — as is my intuition when an apex has my toes at his mercy. His blue jeans were indeed still present, and I would be giving him prompts to take them off in succession with my waxed legs spread for him. He did not succumb. He took his time and it was turning me the fuck on in the meantime.
My darling had skipped down several floors. He was now operating from bottom to top, inevitably leading to my delectable vulva and all points between — within and without; protruded and retracted. Would whatever animal that lay hungry in the foliage cause a prolapse when it sprung out to attack me? We — me and my pussy — had to wonder how bad this was going to be. What had we gotten ourselves into this time?
It was no tricky task for this specialist to maneuver around my slutty looking band of string and put his mouth on areas and orifices that need no introduction to Mankind. There was no excuse not to know the female anatomy in 2014. Like the rest of his touch, it was an intrinsic gift to him — the right amounts of oscillated pressure applied under my little canopy. All I could think to do was just lay there and deal with it, play with my boobies, bite my lip, look down in amazement and reverence and savor it.
This was a man who was not afraid or ashamed to go down on a woman. Evidently, this was about my pleasure, not his. I felt like a queen. He tapped his tongue right into my spot with my hand on his head whilst I was gasping in total awe of this hottie and pleading with him for it to continue and never desist. What more could a girl want? Everything was dripping in secretion, famished to have this panther make a meal out of us. His tongue in my box and on Dr. Grafenberg's spot was positively Awesome — I never use this word lightly.
XV
At this point, we had me moaning in agony for him, my legs trembling, and nerve endings bestowing euphoric bolts of lightning through my body. I was so fucking close, and yet, he paused. He brought my legs together and ditched the sad excuse of synthetic material that remained on me, leaving me in the nude. I do remember faintly saying to him, in helpless and perplexed excitement, “Let me see it, Daddy,” as if I had to tell this guy how to do his job. I could not help it; I needed it so fucking badly!
He took the sides of my arms in both his hands and elevated me from the floor. He didn't have to tell me twice when he stood to his feet. I got on my knees and put my hands on his legs, never forgetting eye contact — laborious as it was, to focus on anything but my prize. My mate had already trod well past the third base by now, and I hadn't even seen it yet — I would not malinger here. It was time for him to head for the home plate — the final sprint. He undid the button and saved the zipper for me. I'd waste no time keeping his briefs on, either. I wanted the shock from this to strike me — though slowly, steadily, and in all profundity, I gripped the tops to slide them down.
In exact, shuddered words of, “Oh my God,” as it lept out from behind the final barrier of cloth and fell from its weight, oxygen had been displaced in my lungs and replaced by another wave of an electrical current that detonated in my chest. I could not believe what I was bearing witness to here. Before then, I'd seen in propria persona what constitutes Perfect and Large dicks — these are not terrible items at all. But I had not seen a cock as colossal as his, staring me right in the face as tangible. This dude was Hung. How in Fuck's name was I going to manage this! He put the 'Well' in 'Well Endowed' in every literal and iterated sense.
My breath quivered, and all I could think to do next was to put my hands on it — yes, it required them both. I'm on my knees, naked and flushed, before this monument of a man looking down at me. He was petting my head and pampering my brown-black hair, encouraging and inspiring me. Fuck, I was hot. It just behooved me, instinctively, to begin the process of engulfing it. Need I go into copious detail here? I was a prodigy of oral sex — of any sex. The simple translation: I love fucking.
I heard his breathing go up and felt his grip begin to tighten. He didn't do anything brutish or obnoxious to me, only tilted his head to the ceiling to enjoy it. This delighted and satisfied me as I proceeded to go down on it further. I couldn't fit its entirety into the back of my throat, as diligent and persevered as I was, so I ran along its sides instead. I glanced up at him and sought his trust in me to put his nuts in my mouth — gently so as not to hurt them. One hand remained to stroke on his cock, the other wrapped around his leg. I closed my eyes and listened to his stifled groans from the fabulous head he was receiving. The erotic redolence of sex was in the air and affecting my anima. I felt both of our raised pulses; my own was crippling me. My heart could not beat any faster than it was; my body was ready to explode like a volcano.
I rose from my knees a bit to play with myself. I doubt he noticed me reaching down to rub my pussy and press a finger or two onto my asshole. I continued to suck his dick off and allow as much of it to slide down into my throat as I could. I was so fucking ready for this guy to vanquish us. How were we going to fit this? I trusted him to be helpful and patient; he seemed like such a nice and handsome gent.
We were communicating with each other only through our expression; it went without saying. Both of us knew what to do before the moment had arrived. My sweetheart saw me dawdling and hesitating with his circumference still in my yap and gently withdrew. He had his hand brushing the side of my adorable mug and went to a bended knee to lay on the soft carpet. He didn't have to signal me; tell me two times — we had already agreed upon it. It was beautiful and organic.
On my way back down to meet him, I gave fellatio for a moment longer, simply to show how much I cared and also to prep it for penetration. Then I settled my hands on his warm and naked hide and laid atop him, my comely profile facing his. My body was swollen in its arousal as I lay pressed against him, everything so sensitive in the slightest movement. My lover put arms around me; I was no longer cold. I was like china, but he was gentle, caring only for my comfort. I wanted to kiss him again for it, and now free in the nude with the thought of his lush cock eagerly waiting in the middle of my titillating legs.
My choice. An inexpressible joy that can only be comprehended while feeling the phenomena; two conglomerate bodies becoming a better and fuller whole. I felt like a part of this person. We laced hands, sought fidelity while entwined, and committed ourselves to one another. We withheld nothing. I felt safe; he would not harm me. I only go by my nature when I feel this fierce of a connection with my partner.
XVI
I don't recall any other specifics of our lovemaking prior to insertion. What I do remember about this night were the length and girth. We were going to have to take this slow; it went without saying as he caressed me, and I gave him whimpers and hints of how nervous I was. I was as ready for it as I would ever be; burning, drenched, and relaxed. His very erect Johnson was still loitering around the entrance to my pussy. No condom was involved — always a gamble, but he seemed like a well-kept enough chap to me. I took his hand in mine and guided it down my back to display my wish. I placed mine on his shaft and carefully prodded its head through my labia and onto my slit to squeeze it in.
Yeah, he was enjoying himself. I did not remove my cajoling gaze from him, either. It entailed some parted mouths, some blood-and-tears, some concentrated squints, and mixed cries of anguish and relief, but we slipped the tip in. Every part of my vaginal cavity was screaming, “No, don't do this to me, Mel! It's too big!” But despite her quandaries, this was working out for us. Notwithstanding her bitching and vanity, we'd managed it, hand in hand, side by side; we were in this together now. I began to acclimate to my man's ferocious size and take his cock like it was put on Earth, designed, and tent for my insides.
I did my utmost to have as every much of a blazing inch stretching me apart as possible. I dug my fingers into his chest and arched my back, going down on this fucking fire-breathing leviathan as much as I could stomach. Its master and ruler — its Neptune — only laid there with his eyes closed and head on the carpet. He had stopped touching me at that point. Was he just relishing in my depravity and my desperation to make this work? Various “oh gods” and “oh fucks” were forcibly ousted from my vernacular amidst each heavier land onto his column. My tits bounced up and down for his entertainment and viewing pleasure. How great does that sound?
Still, he lay there, hands behind his head like nothing was happening, and my determination to win over his heart didn't mean fuck all to him. I felt it striking withering blows to my cervix at that point, and a substantial number of fiery inches remained outdoors. I could not, for the life of me, adjoin his ball sack to my filled gape. I leaned back like I love to do and could not sit down on it all the way. It forced me to remain aloft, quite literally. This man was fucking huge — a cock to contend with a giant's. Enough said.
XVII
The challenging amount of size was negligible after some minutes of nurtured friction, slower plummets, and repeated grindings. This job was not without its complications. It's not kids' stuff; it's strenuous and taxing — this was not easy work, and Pussy and I were having our work cut out for us. There were pings of discomfort and pleasure, but eventually, I was landing on it in enough of a meticulous rhythm to begin to feel an orgasm in the making of such immense depth and explosive magnitude as I had never felt.
Its surface texture just felt so damn fine inside; words cannot tell. My membrane encompassed every pulsing vein and intricacy. Its foreign heat melded with my familiar — it accommodated the ache on the spot where I kept liking it to hit. I was getting comfortable, slicker from the continual reams in and out of my hole. It was getting a lot easier to endure, very rapidly.
The explosion, and my trip to it, would not be canceled. His cock was hitting the home plate, and then some. If any pain persisted as it broke through the gates during the relentless siege into my pink, I was ignoring it. It was too good to stop. I had no jurisdiction over myself at this point; it had all switched over to mental. Nothing else was relevant. God, can I get into it. I was getting ready to come all over Daddy's cock, and I was telling him so. He did not need to be apprised by me; he saw me getting close. He no longer just lay dormant but reciprocated with affection, put his hands all over me, and gave me the time of night.
The feeling of his acknowledgment, on its own, was enough to send me over the edge, then and there. I tried to hold out for as long as I could. Why? I do not know. Perhaps it was my pride. Maybe I didn't want him seeing how easy I was; or how much I was fancying him. I didn't trust myself enough to let go. It would not matter; he would force the orgasm out of me eventually, by my will or not.
Things were getting more vocal on my part; nothing said was being moderated. I have something of a terrible fucking lip, nihilistic as I tend to be. He began to pound into my body as I met with his — a synchronized love dance that has been going on between Man and his woman for quite some ti
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lovely rita
lovely rita · Romance · Lovely Rita
Chapter two
Rita awoke from a very pleasant dream about one of her imaginary lovers.
It reinforced her longing for real love and gave her an empty feeling in
her heart. She decided she would go and check out the town in the
afternoon‚ but first she wanted to take a walk on the beach and use her
new surroundings to the fullest extent she could. She got up and put on
her favorite silken panties and bra. She slipped a nice cool sundress
over the top of them and then grabbed her sandals.
The temperature had already climbed over 80 degrees and the air was
quite humid. She grabbed some fruit from the fridge and headed out the
back door to the beach. She watched the waves crash into the shoreline
and listened to the sounds of the water. There were several birds
chirping and a few flying over head. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and
the sun beat down on her body. She took her sandals off and waded
through the waves. Marveling at the water as it took the sand out from
under feet. The water was a little bit cold but it felt very refreshing.
Suddenly‚ a Frisbee came flying over the sand dune that bordered one
side of the secluded beach. A very large yellow lab followed it. The
Frisbee landed at her feet and she picked it up. The dog stopped when
she picked it up and began jumping around playfully. Egging her on to
throw it to him. She playfully held it out tempting the playful mutt to
come and get it. He would inch closer to her and then scurry away. She
continued to taunt the dog‚ laughing as he jumped around and rolled on
the ground. Waiting impatiently for her to throw his toy.
Just as she was getting ready to through it a man walked over the top of
the dune. He was tall and looked very physically fit. His lean muscular
body was deeply tanned and his light brown hair had streaks of blonde in
it from the sun bleaching it. Her heart jumped as the man approached
her. She didn't know what to say.
He introduced himself as Dave and walked up to take her hand. As he did
he pulled it up to his lips and kissed it gently. 'What a gentleman' she
thought to herself. 'A very handsome one too' her mind continued‚ 'He
will be added to my list of imaginary lovers.' He introduced his pet as
Gabby and took the Frisbee form her hand. He sent it sailing down the
beach landing in the water at the far end of it. The dog excitedly took
off to retrieve it.
He asked her name and what she was doing here. He said that he had
thought this house was going to be empty for the rest of the month. Rita
introduced herself and explained how her boss had given her this
vacation at the last minute. He told her that him and the lab lived in
the house over the hill.
Rita's heart was pounding as she talked with the man. She felt the ache
deep inside of herself. The one that she had been trying to satisfy with
her toy last night in the Jacuzzi. She felt her panties getting wet as
talked and watched him play with his dog. Her vagina twinged every time
there eyes made contact. She longed to be held by him.
She offered him a drink and they went into her borrowed quarters. The
dog stayed out side playing with its Frisbee and chasing the gulls on
the beach as they landed. Rita told him to sit down and make himself
comfortable. She went to the kitchen and poured them both a glass of
white wine. She returned to the living room and handed the glass to him.
She felt a shiver as his hand touched hers and goose bumps popped out
all over her body. Her new friend went on about how this was the best
house on the beach. And the owners were very nice people. He watched as
the bumps slowly disappeared from her flesh.
Her mind was racing trying to stay calm even though she was being worked
up into a frenzy just by the sound of his voice and the way the words
flowed from his lips. As they continued to talk‚ he scooted closer to
her on the large sofa. He reached out and gently rubbed her arm. Her
heart was about to leap out of her chest and she began to breathe
heavily. He continued to talk and said that he lived alone. Her mind
began to wander when he mentioned being alone. She wanted desperately to
resolve that for him. He slid his hand down to hers and grasped it
firmly. He gently pulled her closer to himself.
Rita wasn't sure what was going on. Her head was drunk with passion. She
thought 'I must be imagining this'. As she came towards him‚ he leaned
over and lightly kissed her on the lips. Rita was startled at first but
couldn't fight what she was feeling. She kissed him back and felt
herself melt.
Dave reached around and put his hands on her back. He pulled her closer
to himself and squeezed her body.
Rita began to feel light headed and almost passed out as his lips slid
across her cheek. She reached out for him and gave a long‚ sensuous hug
back to him. She moaned as his breath passed over her ear. Her heart was
pounding‚ forcing her to submit to this stranger. Wanting to feel what
she had been deprived of for so long. He kissed her neck as he ran his
hands up and down her back. Caressing her flesh with his powerful hands.
She could feel the strength in his arms‚ but his touch was so gentle.
She imagined a Greek god holding a very fine‚ fragile piece of pottery.
Yes‚ this is how she felt. He was her god‚ tanned and sculpted from the
most beautiful metal in the world.
She ran her hands up and down his back‚ feeling his muscle ripple as he
caressed her. He kissed and licked his way to her other ear. His hands
drifting farther down her back. Running over the top of her buttocks.
She moaned louder.
Dave began to tell her what a beautiful woman she was. About how soft
her skin was. He told her that the fragrance of it was intoxicating to
him. The said he wanted her. He told her that he wanted explore every
inch of her body. To kiss her all over and then do it over time and time
again. Her breathing turned into more of a pant as he slid his hand
around to her front. Cradling her breast. Gently squeezing it‚ and
massaging it. He told her had to have her‚ to taste the sweet nectar
between her legs. He undid a couple buttons on the front of her dress.
He reached in and massaged her breast through the silky material.
Telling her that he could hardly tell where the material stopped and her
ample bosom began because her skin was so soft and smooth. He reached
under her bra. Circling her swollen nipples with his long fingers.
She moaned again. Louder and more passionately. Dave took it as a sign
to continue. He kissed down the front of her neck‚ down to her cleavage.
He undid more of her buttons and kissed her brazier. Leaving tiny wet
spots on the delicate fabric. He reached up and slid the garment over
her shoulders. She let it fall behind her. He tugged at her bra to
reveal one of her protruding nipples. He licked around the areola and
then sucked her nipple into his mouth. He nibbled at it gently. Feeling
her breathing become more sporadic‚ he reached his hands behind her and
undid clasp on her brazier. He heavy breasts fell a little as they were
released. Dave grabbed both of them and massaged them. Kissing each on
in turn. Licking her erect nipples‚ biting gently to tease them into
getting harder if they possibly could. Dave pushed her back gently.
Laying her down on the plush sofa. He moved back up to her neck and then
kissed her. More passionately than before. His tongue began to search
for hers. Meeting it where their lips joined melted together. They
circled each other's tongues playfully. Dave continued to massage her
breasts. He moved his hands up and down he sides. Threatening to pass
the barrier that the waistband of her panties made. Suddenly he stood
up.
Rita gasped when she saw the huge bulge in his shorts. He took her by
the hands and helped her up off of the sofa. Her dress fell to the floor
along with her bra. He leaned in and kissed her ear again. He asked her
to lead him to the bedroom. She turned and headed up the stairs. Holding
his hand leading him as if he was her pet. He watched he walk‚ admiring
the way her hips swung and moved playfully under her silk panties.
The reached the top of the stairs and Dave spun her around. He kissed
her flush on the lips and Rita almost collapsed as her knees began to
shake. Never before had she felt so much passion. Never had she been
completely taken control of by the simple touch of a man. The fire
inside her began to flare up. She reached around and ran her hands down
his back. Lightly digging her fingernails into his flesh. Her hands slid
past his belt. Feeling his firm buttocks. Pulling him closer to her.
Dave could see the bed and began to guide Rita towards it.
She stumbled and they both fell onto the huge bed. Dave was above her‚
kissing her neck and lobes. Rubbing his body on hers. Rita pushed him up
and grabbed his belt buckle. She hurriedly undid it. She kissed his
swollen member through the cotton material. Making it throb with
anticipation. She undid his shorts and let them fall to the floor. He
didn't have any underwear on and his cock hung before her face. It stuck
straight out as if it were pointing at her. She grabbed it and began to
rub it slowly. A droplet of clear pre-cum leaked out of its slit. She
squeezed and the drop grew. It was about ready to drip off when she
stuck out her tongue and licked it up. She moaned deeply. She had
forgotten how wonderful it tasted. Dave groaned from deep within his
chest as she licked the head of his cock. She pointed his shaft towards
the sky and licked up and down the length of it.
When her tongue reached the tip of it‚ she slowly took it between her
lips. She kissed it softly. Then let it slide in. As it reached the back
of her throat she almost gagged. 'God‚ I am out of practice' she
thought. She slid her head back and then grasped his prick by the base
of his manhood. She slid her hand up to the tip and then back down.
Following it with her mouth as she smeared her saliva over his cock. She
moaned deeply to give him an even greater sense of pleasure. His cock
throbbed hard as she moaned louder. The vibration form her mouth could
be felt all the way back to his ass. His body tensed‚ forcing a deep
groan out of his throat. His obvious approval made Rita moan harder‚ as
she sucked his cock deep into her mouth.
She ran her hands up and down his chest. Paying extra attention to his
erect nipples. Dave reached down and began to stroke his throbbing penis
in rhythm with Rita's head as she slid her loving lips up and down his
engorged shaft. She let it slide completely out and began to lick the
swollen head as he stood there. Jacking off in front of her. The sight
of his beautiful body standing in front of her giving himself pleasure
made her pussy begin to leak. She reached down and rubbed her vagina
through her silk panties. There was a huge wet spot. It felt as if her
juices would start dripping through her panties any minute now.
She leaned over and licked the length of his prick again. He held it up
so that she could caress the underside of it all the way to his balls.
She took one testicle into her mouth and swirled it around with her
tongue. He slid his hand down his member then back to the top again. As
it slid up she followed it with her tongue. Stopping just below the head
and kissing it hard. She sucked on the large vein running along the
bottom of his cock into her mouth and ran her head back and forth.
Another drop of clear liquid leaked out the tip and dripped onto her
cheek. She wiped it off with her finger and sucked it into her mouth.
Dave squeezed his cock at the base and then worked his hand towards the
tip. He milked another drop to the tip for his new lover. She gladly
accepted it with her tongue.
He managed to get a couple more drops for her before she took his shat
deep into her mouth and began to hum again. The vibrations made his nuts
squeeze tight. They almost disappeared as she continued to suck as hard
as she could. She knew that any second he was going to reward her with a
hot steamy load of cum. She sucked harder and hummed louder. Dave began
to thrust his cock deep into her mouth. Squeezing the bottom of his cock
to hold off his impending orgasm as long as possible. Finally he
couldn't take any more. He let go of his prick and grabbed her by the
back of the head. He pushed his cock deep into her mouth. Rita felt the
hot sticky fluid flood into her mouth. She wallowed hard and fast‚
trying to catch it all‚ but she couldn't. It began to leak out around
his cock from the corners of her mouth. She had forgotten how wonderful
it felt to suck a man off. To know that she is giving him one of the
most precious gifts she could.
Dave's head was thrown back and he yelled to the heavens. Letting them
and Rita know how wonderful he felt. He was totally consumed by the
orgasm. His body clenched tightly. He felt his penis try to squirt more
of its love juice out but he had been drained. He told Rita that he had
just received the best blowjob he had ever had. He said she was the best
hands down.
He pushed her back onto the bed gently and began to kiss her heavy
breasts. He ran his hands up and down her body‚ stopping and massaging
one breast at a time. He slid his hands down to her waist and began to
slide her panties off. He inched them down very slowly. Waiting for his
mouth and wondering tongue to catch up with them. As he crossed her
belly button with his lips‚ she began to moan. Knowing that a wide array
of wonderful sensations awaited her. He kissed down to her mound of
pubic hair. Half of it was peeking out over her waistband. He kissed
further‚ his lips passing his hands in a heated race of lust. He kissed
her firmly on her love button through the silken membrane that hid her
woman hood.
Rita gasped in a breath as the wave of pleasure raced through her body.
Flooding her mind. Dave pulled her panties down over her hips and kissed
his way to her feet. Following her panties until they fell to the floor.
He then began his journey back to her erogenous zone. Caressing her
thighs. Brushing passed her now exposed pussy. He could see beads of her
juice forming on her lips. He wanted to hurry and suck in her love
potion but he paced him self. Increasing their lust as the anticipation
heightened. Finally his traveling mouth and tongue reached their final
destination. He paused for a minute looking at her beautiful vagina then
up into her eyes. She met his gaze and sparks seemed to zap both of them
and they moaned in unison. He smiled at her with a devilishly playful
smile and then lowered his head slowly towards her crotch.
He slowly licked the droplets from her quivering lips. Inhaling the
sweet nectar that her body produced. Her juices were sweet with the
innocence that her pussy had endured the past few years. Not having a
man touch it for so long. He reached up and caressed her breasts with
one hand while his other gently spread her hot wet lips. She reached her
first orgasm as he gently kissed her love button. Sucking in her hooded
clit and twitching at it with his tongue. She moaned and her hips bucked
spontaneously. She too cried towards the sky‚ thanking the angles for
finally releasing her from the lustful prison her body had been in and
wanting to escape from for so long. She grabbed the back of his head and
pulled it closer to her convulsing love hole. He buried his tongue deep
inside her. Trying to get every drop of fluid that gushed out of her. He
moaned trying to give her the same sensation he had felt as she hummed
while pleasuring him. Her vaginal walls contracted around his tongue.
Trying to squeeze it and suck it deeper inside of her quivering tunnel.
As her body rolled down from the peak of her orgasm‚ she released his
head form her tight grip. She ran her fingers through his hair‚
encouraging him not to stop yet. He lightly licked her inflamed pussy‚
watching her shake as he passed over the overly sensitive labia and
clit. She moaned with satisfaction‚ but they both knew that they were
not done.
Their passion built as he continued to explore her most private regions.
Dave's cock throbbed once again between his legs. Anticipating yet
another sexual experience from their new lover. He kissed her clit
lightly again and slid a finger into her dripping pussy. He curled it up
to find her pleasure button. The one that was hidden inside her vaginal
treasure chest. She clenched her fists and pulled his hair a little as
he passed it the first time. It had been so long since a strange hand
had explored her depths. The thrill of not knowing where he would touch
next fully aroused her. She began to pant again. Feeling yet another
release cumming from her aching pussy. Dave sensed her pending orgasm
and rubbed her g-spot a little harder. He sucked her clit into his lips
and began to thrash it with his powerful tongue.
Rita's hips began to buck wildly again. He could barely keep his mouth
on her little nub. He slipped another finger past her cum drenched lips.
Thrusting them into her. Meeting her every move with a commanding
knowledgeable move. Once again he licked up her sweet nectar. Trying to
ignore the pleading from his loins to be buried deep inside her.
As her squirming slowed‚ He began to kiss his way up her body. Pausing
to give each breast a loving kiss before venturing on. He kissed her
neck and ears again. Listening to her deep breaths‚ her blissful moans.
His hard throbbing cock lined up perfectly with her pussy. It was as if
they were made for each other. He moved his hips up and down rubbing its
swollen head over her lips.
Suddenly as if on cue‚ he pushed it in past her labia just as she forced
her hips up towards him. His dick buried deep inside her pussy. His
balls bounced off of her ass. "Oh god‚" they both said‚ once again in
unison. Dave pulled out and then pushed in again. Slowly this time‚ his
cock feeling every inch of her woman hood and her vaginal walls being
caressed by every inch of his being. He kissed her deeply‚ his tongue
exploring the inner regions of her mouth where his being had just
enjoyed an intense orgasm. He continued to move in and out slowly
grinding his pelvic bone against her clit. He would rotate his hips a
couple of times before withdrawing his fleshy sword and then doing it
again.
He kissed her neck‚ whispering praises in her ear. Telling her how
beautiful and exciting she was. Rita's tunnel began to close tightly
around his member. Pulling at it as he tried to back out. But the free
flowing juice for her pussy kept it to well lubricated to stop its
retreat. She was moaning loudly again as if she was applauding his
performance. She imagined him as a conductor. Leading her orchestra in a
lustful symphony of sex. Her body climbed to the crescendo of pleasure
once again. She began to thrust her hips up to meet his onslaught of
love. The tempo increased as he began to feel his body tingle with the
passion as he felt his testicles once again being sucked up into his
hard belly. He began to pound his meat into her pussy. Getting faster
and faster as they both approached the last note of their beautiful
duet. They could hear there bodies slapping together as if they were
each a cymbal‚ being slammed together to highlight the end of there
concerto.
Dave's cock began to paint the inside of Rita's pussy with cum. His body
trying to expel every ounce of fluid left in his aching loins. Rita's
pussy pulsated as his cock swelled even bigger in the heat of passion.
Her love muscles clenched tightly around his thick cock. Their love
juices squirted out of her sopping hole as he made his last few thrusts
into her. His body tensed and he buried himself deep inside her. He
stayed buried in her whole feeling her squirm below him. Swirling her
hips around to get every last sensation of orgasm she could possible
stand.
Dave collapsed on top of her. His hard throbbing cock still buried deep
inside her tunnel of love. Her pussy quivered. Almost convulsing as she
once again ascended from the heights of intense passion he had led her
to. Dave laid on top of her feeling his cock grow soft inside her. He
kissed her again on the mouth and let their tongues roll around each
other's.
Never before had Dave experienced such passion with a woman. He looked
deeply into her eyes and sighed. "I love you." Rita's heart pounded as
she heard the words. "I think I love you too‚" she said softly. The
kissed again deeply and passionately as Dave's exhausted‚ limp cock slid
from the recesses of her love hole. Dave rolled off of her and he put
his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. Not wanting to let her go.
She melted into his embrace. Never wanting it to end. They kissed softly
a few more times before drifting of to a blissful slumber‚ where they
ran through each other's dreams......
The end of chapter two.
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I love this article so here you go, hope you get as much from it.
http://madamenoire.com/1202616/monique-daddy/
I was into this life before fifty shades of grey. I always loved discipline. As long as I can remember. I'm soo aggressive and rough with it.
I am into domestic discipline.
I love pulling hair, slapping ass as well as a face, I'm into choking during sex and romancing all day through text message. Yes my woman will always wake up and go to sleep to those texts and romantic music.
but the sex is long and rough.
Neck biting is definitely my thing.
I have been in this type of lifestyle all my life. This is all I know, get at me only if you are into that. I live in Atlanta right now but travel often. So I could come to a city near you, no problem. Give me a reason :p
I have my own business, so I have my own time, do what I want. Only thing that controls me is I am a dad.
I love to travel (can’t find much time to lately, I have three children now and I’m a great father) anyway I still love to make money FAST hustle money!
Been in adult entertainment 13 yrs, but now I am a motivational speaker for my own private school group of Alpha males (exgang members, expimps and exdrug dealers.. guys just like me). I love what I do. I am a workaholic. I authored nine books and twenty magazines so far all on one subject.
Yea, Im pretty fucking wild ! The spontaneous shit, anywhere then everywhere, its fucking awesome.
I love fast cars, exotics, mink coats (I love em) big flashy diamonds, I have tons of pics in different states, in casinos spending big drinking, having fun. Some with my crew, I wont put them on here because each one has there on discreet life with me and dont want it publicized like when we were all younger.
These are my real pics.
Im wild but, I can romance too! :p
Hope to hear from you.
Lets do what comes to mind... On the highway (we pull over) although I have and will do it while driving fast. But Im not that tall and I usually cant see over the girls head lol. Dont laugh, that part wasnt funny. :p I have a good since of humor.
At a fast food restaurant... (in the bathroom men or womens doesnt matter)
In a long drive through line (mostly at the Jack in the box late nights)
NO DRUGS AT ALL!
I normally only talk to girls who have kids too!
I know I sound sponge bob square pants but trust me, Im hella fun.
Run my own business in the day time and like to have fun at night.
I am 100% gentleman.
Oh yeah, Im polygamous and a father of three so my time is precious to me So don’t waste mine and I won’t waste yours. I am 100% NO BULLSHIT.
I am NOT into excuses.
Be great or Be nothing, nobody, not remembered or rarely talked about.
Well thats just about how I am and who I am.
Any institutions using this site or any of its associated sites for studies or projects - You do NOT have my permission to use any of my profile or pictures in any form or forum both current and future. If you have or do, it will be considered a serious violation of my privacy and will be subject to legal ramifications. It is recommended that other members post a similar notice to this!
I am Kevin (but call me Daddy)
I'm 38 years old.
I dont drink or smoke.
I love to work out.
I live to dominate a woman. Its my thing.
I love every vampire movie that has ever come out and the books that came before them and also to study genius, to talk about and work on being more than what we are everyday.
We travel, shop, we workout, make money, film and fuck.
Join us.
I did my own vampire movie (with all of my own money)
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mvJAQfouxHYUI2xXVUmYCYr6944c85U-/view?usp=drivesdk
I just realized that I am really into making girls squirt at times that aren't supposed too. On certain bed spreads, in pants and panties etc. Not just on a towel anymore. And do try to resist, ugh this life is something else. I love it, I love it, I love it, I love it.
Must be atleast 18.
Oh yea, institutions you are not allowed to use my page for anything.
And call me Daddy when you talk to me.
I hope to hear from you.
Join us
-Daddy
North Charleston, SC sex hookups!
I'm trying to create a group for like minded individuals in the Charleston / North Charleston, South Carolina area who want to get together and fuck, suck, lick, and stick each other without all the usual drama and games that are played in the normal way that others are meeting each other thru. Let this be a forum in which we all meet, say "Hi and Hello" to each other; and then we get together for a hot and juicy sex session no matter what your sexual persuasion is. Whatever your likes are is welcome in this group.......the main goal is getting together and having sex again, just like it was before the time of Covid! Feel free to post pics and discussions. - North Charleston, SC sex hookups!
A night in: the start
A night in: the start · One on One · I come home from work one night. I heard your voice on my cell phone
with a voice message telling me that you were going to be out‚ but to
get comfortable. I shower myself and use my favorite shampoo Sun
Ripened Raspberries by Suave. I get out of the shower and start to
dry off. I then proceed to shave and brush my teeth getting ready for
bed. I put on a pair of boxers and go and lay in my bed. I start
reading a book and all of a sudden I hear a creak. I continue reading
the book knowing that you are in the house. I smell the wax of
candles burning and know that you are lighting candles.I
get up to go to the bathroom and then after that I go back and lay
down and flick off the light. I close my eye knowing that you are up
to something. I start to drift off into sleep without covers because
I am warm and just when I thought I was out I am awoken from my
peaceful sleep. The room is lit up with candles everywhere. No flat
surface is without a candle. I look down and I see that you have
straddled my body with a leg on each side and are looking back at me
with a wicked mischievous grin. Your eyes are so penetrating and I
know that you are hungry for me. I try to move my legs‚ but find out
that you tied them while I was sleeping. Your working on my arms
through the posts and handcuffing them with fuzzy handcuffs. I do not
resist as I know that resistance is futile.You
reach down and start running your hands along my chest. You then lean
down and kiss me gently upon the forehead. You start kissing my face
gently and the forcefully give me a kiss on the lips. I try to kiss
you back but you hold my head down with your hand. Then you get up‚
and I notice that you are wearing a pink thong with a baby doll
negligee‚ your eyes are sparkling and I see a slight hue to your
cheeks and your lips‚ your hair is tied back as to keep it out of
your face and your lips are in a nonstop smile. I feel you rubbing
your pelvis against the thin layer of cotton that separates my flesh
from your flesh. I shudder from your ministrations as you tease me
so. I cannot help but wonder what is in store for me.You
then open the top drawer and pull a dagger out and proceed to cut my
boxers off of my body. Once the remains of my boxers are removed you
run the tip of the blade against my skin and tickle me gently. You
place the knife back into the drawer. You then start kissing my face
again‚ the corners of my mouth‚ down my neck. Goosebumps for upon my
flesh as you gently nibble and kiss upon my neck and trace my neck
with nibbles‚ licks and kisses. You start kissing down my chest and
down my sternum kissing lightly around my belly button. You run your
hands down and wrap your fingers around my flesh and rub it up and
down. You look up and into my eyes as you slide your body down my
body and stick your tongue out and lick the tip of my penis. I
shudder from your sensitive touch and beg for your to suck on it. You
look up into my eyes again and give me a mischievous look as you
smile at me. You reach for something on the floor‚ a cup and bring it
on the bed. You place your fingers into the cup and pull a piece of
ice out. You place the piece of ice in your mouth and then lean down
and suck on the tip of my penis. The sensations send shock waves of
pleasure coursing through my body. I never felt such sensations and I
immediately know that you are using the ice to deaden the sensations‚
which also allows us to make love longer. You then position your body
around by placing your legs on each side of my head and lean back
down and suck on my penis. I lift my head off the bed and lick on
your exposed pussy. I lick along the inside of the lips and lean
further just barely touching the tip of my tongue to your clit. I
enjoy your taste so immensely and I start running my tongue in and
our of you and probing your pussy as deep as I can tasting your
loveliness with my tongue.Want more? Ask and I will get to work on it.
humperman1
Male · Fox's Corners, Canada. This is the member profile for humperman1
Ranmor
Male · Wilcox Corners, Canada. This is the member profile for Ranmor
1549
Male · Breezy's Corners, Canada. This is the member profile for 1549
Tom24601
Male · Andy's Corners, Canada. This is the member profile for Tom24601
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