Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
What I want is the touch of you. Your caress on my skin. Your breath in my ear. Your tongue on my neck. I want to open the door to you and be taken into an embrace that is breath stopping. You sweep me to you, and at once our bodies are one: there is no where I end and you begin; no where you end and I begin. We are melded into one entity of energy.
You hold me so close that I think I might not be able to breathe. Our lips find each other hungrily and we begin to devour each other from the outside in. I feel like I haven’t eaten in months. I haven’t. I haven’t eaten you in months. You are as hungry as I am, as insatiable. We are sucking the breath out of each other and yet giving life giving breath to one another.
This kissing, this devouring goes on forever: it could be minutes, it feels like hours. And then we pull back a bit, noses together, foreheads together, and we are panting, and whispering, and hissing all at once. I’m whispering how you must plunge into me, fill me with you, take me, spear me, stab me with you cock, kill me. And you’re whispering how much you need to be in me, suckled by me, sucked in, and held in a death grip by my cunt.
And then we slow down for a minute, maybe longer. We both take a deep long breath, smelling each other, tasting each others’ scent. We are transfixed, locked like this, holding on like our lives depended on it. We start to sway a little, like we are slow dancing, or rocking each other peacefully. We’re still tangled together, one body, just swaying slightly, moving to the beat of our hearts, undulating in an unplanned rhythm. It’s like our heartbeats are the music, syncing together, and then our ragged breath slowing and syncing together, and becoming one entity of energy.
Nothing else can penetrate that vibe. Slowly, oh so slowly, I start to move my hands over your body, feeling the ripped flesh beneath. I feel your strong arms, hard and firm. I feel your broad chest, solid and taut. I feel your belly, tight and ripped. And I move my hands ever so slowly to your face. I start to stroke your face like it is made of the finest silk, the softest thing ever made. I let my fingertips glide at the absolute slowest pace, wanting to touch every single pore, every cell, every molecule.
And your hands have started to move too. You begin to explore my curves, sliding your hands over my hips, clutching me closer to you, as if I could be any closer to you. You start to knead my ass like you’re making a pastry, and I suppose you are making me sweet and dripping like honey.
Your strong broad hands slide up my back, feeling every vertebrae, every rib, every muscle as each one ripples as I stroke you. Your hands are big enough to hold all of me, and yet gentle enough to feel like air on my skin. Your hands go into my hair, stroking it at first, petting it, and then starting to tangle your fingers in it. You start to wrap it in between your fingers, start to pull my head back, and bend me into vulnerability.
My fingers still brush your cheeks, your brow, your eyelids, your lips. You lean to me and place your mouth on my neck. I feel so exposed. I’m bent almost backward, and yet your strong hands and arms hold me taut like a bow. Our groins are still together, so I really am hanging back in your arms. Our sex touching, feeling almost like we are one and yet we are still clothed, not yet locked together.
You start to lick me right in the curve of my neck, right at the hollow of my clavicle. I shudder. It’s so light, so delicate, so vulnerable. I feel connected to that spot from all over my body. My nipples harden. My pussy lips start to swell. My cunt starts to drip. And my breath starts to quicken again. It’s almost like the kiss of a vampire right before he sinks his teeth into his prey.
I stop breathing, and you move ever so slightly, ever so slowly, ever so lightly down across my chest and into my cleavage. Your tongue is in my cleavage, lapping the insides of my breasts. You become more insistent internet casino in your licking, hungrier. Your arms are still under my back, holding me bent, your fingers wrapped in my hair. You loosen your grip in my locks, and start to slide your hands over my shoulders, down my back, and to my hips, where you pin me firmly against your erection. I can feel the hardness of you, feel your cock aching against my cunt, feel your engorged prick ripping against the material between us.
My head hangs back, my neck limp, my tresses flowing over my shoulders and falling into empty space. And then you whisper, “I’m hungry.” And I know what you are hungry for. Throughout all this, I’ve still had my hands on you, on your face, your hair, your neck. I reach down and start to unbutton my blouse. Each button brings me more exposed, more open to you, to your hungry mouth. You start to suckle right through my bra. I’m pulling my blouse open, showing you my swelling breasts, my aching tits, my hardening nipples. I reach behind and unhook my bra.
You pull it to the side with your teeth and suck my nipple into your mouth greedily. My breath quickens, my heart rate goes up, and I start to flush, my breasts becoming almost red, but the nipples darkening and hardening. You start to suck, then pull back, licking, lapping, teasing with the tip of your tongue. I start to grind my hips against you, pushing my waiting pussy against your hard cock. I’m so hot you can feel my heat radiating through your clothes, almost burning your meat. Finally you suck me in again, and start to bite me fiercely, sucking me like I suck your cock, torturing me, making my nipple so hard I think it might break, shatter, fall to pieces. My bra lies over one breast, barely covering me, like a slave ordered to strip.
You move that cup to the side now with your teeth, your teeth bared like a wild animal, like you might devour me at any second. And you take that nipple into your mouth, suckling, then biting, then almost gnawing on it like you haven’t ever tasted it before, like it holds the ambrosia of life. And I wish right then that it did, that you could suckle the honey of the gods right out of me like a baby sucking milk.
Now you slow down, just licking, lapping like a cat at milk, teasing, tasting, then blowing on my aching diamond hard tip. And then I start to come, come like I’ve never cum before just from suckling. My nipples are so hard I swear they will crack, my cunt is so wet and dripping that I am starting to make our clothes wet, to stain your cock, and to seep onto it. I feel the energy shooting from my nipple tips to my cunt and back, my vagina clenching and pulsing and grabbing. There’s nothing in my cunt to grab onto, and yet I keep clutching and gripping against my own walls. My hands go limp. I let go of you. My arms fall to my sides, into space, arching back like my head. I’m absolutely yours for the taking.
Still you are holding me in your arms, your strength holding us both up, my back arched, my cunt pushed into your swollen cock, my head hanging back. I’m completely exposed, and yet still clothed from the waist down. Your hands hold my hips so tight it’s like I would fall if you let go, like we are joined like a mountain range, individual mountains leaning into one another, not sure where one starts and the other stops. I start to come back to earth, to reality, to this moment. And I want you in my cunt more than I have ever wanted you. I try to say this, to speak, but only gibberish comes out.
You know what I am saying though, you sense my desire, and you feel my heat on your cock, making you harder and fatter and impatient. You start to let go of me and I start to stumble, completely off balance. So you pull me close again, my decimated breasts pressed against your chest, and lift me up. My legs instinctively wrap around you, around your hips, sliding up to your waist, and planting my now spread but clothed cunt lips on your cock. My head falls onto your canlı poker oyna shoulder like a tired child needing a nap. You carry me like that, sleepy, exhausted, spent, up the stairs and to my bed.
But unlike a child, you toss me onto the bed and begin to rip my clothes from my body. My bra is wrapped loosely around my arms. My shirt hangs from my wrists. I’m almost bound by my own clothes. You tear these things from me like an impatient child unwrapping a Christmas present, getting the last of the paper off the gift. You clutch my pants by the waist and tear them open, breaking the zipper, shredding them as you pull them over my hips, pushing my ass into the air to get them off. They fall to the floor like more crumpled gift wrap. And I guess that is what my clothes are: gift wrap covering my gift to you, my most precious and vulnerable thing to present. My panties are still on, small, soaked, twisted to one side, my puffy lips hanging over them, the cloth jammed up into my cunt.
You bend over me, and breath: breath in my scent, my sweat, my heat. Then you lean in and start to work my pussy lips with your tongue even with the cloth still there, the lace in the way. You start to chew at it like you are working through a thread that is bothering you and hanging in your way. Then you bite into the crotch, your teeth grazing my swollen puffy lips, and pull back. My panties are in shreds, just little patches of lace. You drop them from your mouth, and I look into your eyes, and you look like an untamed beast facing off with his trainer.
Then you are between my legs, your mouth on the mouth of my pussy, your lips kissing my cunt lips, your tongue searching for my clit, my button, my sweet spot. My legs are flung open, my hips arching up, my ass off the bed wanting you to plunge deeper into me, to eat me, devour me, spear me with your tongue. And I’m cumming again, screaming and not even knowing it, hearing your name and wondering who is saying it, moaning in words not spoken any more, ancient words, words of worship.
I’m worshiping you as you are worshiping me. Your adoration comes through your mouth into my cunt. My adoration comes to you through my mouth, but into the abyss. My hands are clenched, clawing at the air, reaching for your head, your hair, not sure if I’m even connecting, bucking wildly like a beast, like a bitch in heat. Juices are pouring out of me, sweet honey, pouring over your lips, into your mouth, all over your face, your chin.
Your hands have been under my ass, spreading my legs, pulling my ass cheeks apart, and now I want those hands in my holes, those fingers stretching my cunt and ass, getting them ready for that huge swollen cock of your to plunder and plunge into and fill. You’ve got the fingers of one hand in my cunt, and the fingers from the other in my ass. I’m pushing down, grinding, filling myself up. You’ve got three fingers in my pussy and two in my ass. I’m completely stretched, absolutely vulnerable, and yet needing more in me, needing that cock of yours to spear me to the depths of my being, to plunge in to the hilt, to slam into my cervix and there’s nowhere else to go. To breach the first sphincter of my ass and be pushing against the next one.
You pull away now, standing over me, gazing down with hunger, desire, and adoration. You want to own me, to plunder me, and to worship me all at once. You rip your own shirt off, the buttons flying off and it comes down over your shoulders. You clutch at your fly, trying to open your pants, but your cock is so big, so swollen, that you can’t get them open. You have to suck in your breath and tear to get them off. They are caught on your thighs, and you shove and push, but don’t even worry that they aren’t off all the way. They’re bunched around your legs, but you don’t seem to notice or care.
I’m spread open for a feast, for a celebration, tended and prepared and presented for a god. There’s juice everywhere dripping from my honeypot and from my poker oyna ass. My ass is twitching, clutching, wanting to be filled, but you decide you had better start with my pussy. You grab my ankles and hover over me, then plunge in, shoving my feet out to the sides, my legs out of the way, your sword into my sheath. You reach the end, my cervix, and grunt. I feel like you are coming up through my stomach, my belly, slammed against my natural dam, like if you didn’t have that in the way your cock head would be in my throat coming up from the other side. You pull back and slam in again, hitting ground hard and grunting. I’m completely spread, completely speared by you.
You start to rock with a rhythm, pushing off from my ankles. My ankles are pinned on the bed now, I’m stretched open so wide, and yet my pussy is deceptively tight, holding you in a death grip, clenching you as hard as you are clenching your teeth, clenching your own ass cheeks as you ram into me. And our bodies are really one now: one machine, a piston jamming in and out of a tube, ramming, slamming, and the more you fuck me, the wetter I get, the more I drip, the hotter my box becomes, the tighter the walls of my vagina. I’m so wet you would have thought you had already blown your jism, there is so much cum. I’m so tight it’s like a fist gripping you, massaging you, coaxing your spunk out from your prostate, from your balls, begging it to spill into me.
And yet you keep ramming. You are rock hard and red and veiny. You are aching and sore and tender. Your head is so swelled I think it won’t fit back into my tight hole if you pull out, and yet you pull back, plunging in again and again, feeling the tightness grab you, feeling like you are taking me for the first time with each plunge, as tight as a virgin sacrifice. I’m in another world, and so are you, and we are there together: a world of sensation and bliss and desire and merging and floating even as you are grunting and ramming and I am crying out and sobbing, even as on this plane we are like savages while on the other we are like angels.
Then you pull back, all the way out. My pussy is snapping, grabbing for your dick, your manhood. You take hold of my ankles firmly, and roll my knees up a bit, and place the tip of your cock against my asshole. My sweet tight ass is stimmed like crazy, and I start writhing. I’ve rarely been ass fucked, and not in the way you are intending. There is no slowness, no hesitance, no getting me ready. You’ve done all that with your hands, your fingers. You’ve worked that hole, too, getting is stretched and stimmed, and engorged.
Now I’m going to take you whole, in one thrust, and I take a breath, let it out, and start screaming as you plunge into me. I can’t believe you fit. You must be coming out of my mouth. How did you get that monster into my teeny tiny little rosebud? How did you plunge in with only my juices coating you without splitting me in two? You thrust hard, slamming into my ass like you did my cunt, hitting my sphincter like you hit my cervix. I’m cumming again, and not even sure how. I’m twitching and contracting, my asshole like a fist, holding you, not letting you even pull out all the way as you rock into me. You don’t last long though. You can’t. You wanted so badly to blow your wad into my cunt that you can’t help but start to spew that jism into my little rosebud. You’re thrusting as you’re cumming and jism is running down your cock, down my crack, onto the pristine white sheets, making a puddle of love juices, staining our sex into the folds of the bed.
You collapse, and release my ankles. I wrap my legs around your waist again, and reach for your face, your hair, your throat. I’m caressing you lightly again, and you are moaning and mumbling and speaking in that ancient language, calling me a goddess, your goddess worthy of worship. And I’m comforting you, praising you for a job well done, that you slay the beast and saved the tribe, and life can go on now. You start to doze, your head on my shoulder, your body crushing me, the weight of you proof of your strength, your godliness, your manliness. And I sleep too, and meet you on that other side where we are no longer beasts but angels, basking in the white light of heaven.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32