Just…
We are thoughts in the eastern squall of a hurricane.
We make no apologies, and we offer no mercy.
She is lovely. Not just her like a faery tale, but her, the meat of her. I want that, and I know she’ll drag us to dark places but her hands on me are like being stabbed with a divining rod, and she knows the meat of me. The requirement and contrast. In those quiet moments as she looks up to me, my cock spurting shot after shot into her waiting mouth and our eye contact is so knowing…the room is charged. The room could crystallize and I would not be surprised. Just the sound of breath, the squeak of the bed, and my half choked groan behind your hand as you gag me and suck me dry. Your lips raking the measure of me, and I groan around your fingers, I am yours, all of it, crazy about you. As I jerk and you pump the last dregs of my cum across your lips. Your demon tongue. Just impossibly long, licks it all up.
These sounds you and I make are my soundtrack to the rest of my life. Life is boring, but you are never boring, you are mine as hurried as a quickie before work to just a soft languid fuck in the summer heat, because I tell you I want to taste the salt of you, as you pull your underwear to the side and slip a finger inside your pussy, and it’s like you are dipping your finger into warm honey. You shove it into my mouth, your fingernails scraping against my tongue, My cock bulges and erupts inside you, as and you ride me to your own orgasm, my balls throbbing in the rhythm of your thighs. My cock straining and a mess of jangled nerves as I continue to slowly fuck you until you grab my chest with your nails and in this deep passionate, fully passionate women, the sexy goddess that you are.
“I’m going to fucking cum. “
and you do. You, through every piece of your body, like light seeping through the cracks, like starlight blazing, your cum is a comet streaking across the sky.
I love when you cum on my face because sometimes there is nothing nicer than to French kiss your pussy in the quiet light of our bedroom. To feel my mouth flood with saliva just thinking about eating your pussy. The throb of you, the tang. I want your lips on mine, your moist pussy lips rubbing against my own lips.
Somedays I can’t wait to eat your pussy. Like just counting the minutes till I can’t taste you, smell your scent, the meat of you. To get lost in fucking your pussy with my finger as I tongue your clit. To think about you cumming as I drag my fingernails across your gspot. Your head thrown back. Silent scream. That is where I want you. I want that. Silent scream. I want your nipples as hard as rocks, your thighs quivering with exhaustion, pulling you back down to my mouth so I can suck on your slit some more, you pushing on my shoulders, as I slip a finger into your perfectly tight and succulent asshole.
And you are electrocuted on our sex, simply taut, a live wire of fuck. And I love you, I love you. I just want you to feel good, and no I love you, that you are mine, special, irreplaceable. My god and worshipper, I love you so and so I tell you, always
Give me all your cum. Give it to me. Give me your cum, it’s mine now.” I whisper, my seductress, to you and I mount you and whisper it some more as I fuck you through your orgasm. As I suck on your breast and lick your nipples, and you won’t cum down till I fill your pussy with my hot cum, so that I can’t be where you are as we relax into each others arms, twilight and sleep and slightly drunk on your pussy. My hot breath on your gnawed and bruised nipples as I fill you with my cum, each spurt pushed deep into you. I love you. You are my everything inside and out.
But not, I mean that’s amazing. Truly, our love life is perfect to its core. I have never cum or felt so desired in my entire life. And safe, and respected. And comfortable as I fuck her from behind and spray her asscrack with cum, she loves it, she lubricates her finger with my cum and fucks herself to orgasm as my cum cools on the cheeks of her ass. I hunch over in the darkness, my cock throbbing and pulsing. I can feel her fingers rubbing along the underside of my cock, mixing pussy juice and cum to coat my balls in. She rubs the full length of her clit all the way down past my balls. She pulls on them, squeezing out dabs of cum and she reaches her own. I am an electric eel as she pulls on my balls through her orgasm. We are liquid fire and the essence of pressure. Always creating, as she massages her juices Into our skin. I’m already thinking
about fucking her. Deep in her ass, stuck up in the air, head turned back, eyes wide taking me in. I want to see the bit of nerves as my cockhead crests her anal ring, I want that soft look of too much, turned to give me all of it you mother fucker, rage as my cock goes all the way in to the hilt and I rest, listening to her breath, the sound of her pain and pleasure, how her hands grab the air and she settled her nails into my forearms. Her legs quiver and kick. I can feel her anal ring twitch and squeeze me as I rest beside her.
Her breathing ragged but trying. she whispers “fuck it.” And pulls me the rest of the way into her asshole. Her hands pull and dragged forward, pulling on the shag of my cock, my hips, pulling my balls forward, until I am deep inside her. She is a live wire, jittering and wanton. Just, man you’d be ashamed of the state of her. Not me, I can hardly keep from cumming as I kiss her breathy lips, I fuck her ass, hard, her teeth grit and she squeals into my mouth her ass is clenching me so tight, the pain making her hackles rise, goose bumps along her flanks she is magnificent, I take long deep plunges into her, so I can feel her ass stroke me. I’m building my orgasm on her nerve endings and I love her, for sure she is mine, these stars, this night, and her, mine. Forever and ever.
Did you know Morry always looks amazing in a library? She does. Whether she is climbing towards the ceiling in the stacks, or leaning just there her finger on her lip, reading poetry or another line out of a JD Salinger wet dream. We run hand in hand like children, musty books and leather bound stories.
We sit in leather chaise lounges, smoking cigars and sipping bourbon, talking about how rats weren’t the cause to the black plague, how humans were, how humans were dirtier than the rats coming off the ships.
She curls her feet under thick blankets. Her legs creating elegant swirls and eddies in the clothe. Water ripples made by sensual legs.
She smiles at me through the smoke and stringent smell of the liquor. We listen to old records, from forgotten tinny singers, as the rains and sunshine come and go. We spill and ash all over the place and giggle about obscure pages from authors, well no one probably even cares about but us. I could spend forever in this library with her. We eat non organic things. Things that are bad for us, messy things. Wholly unhealthy. I pull strips of bologna apart and she makes faces. We talk far into the night, through the filling of oil lamps and the smoky flicker of lost things. She is a wonderful spirit, as lively and fortuitous here as there. We laugh and talk, think up amazing idea, smoke pipes and fall asleep, bed and pillow, I fall asleep with my breath warming your back. This is the meat of us.I wish I could be better. Sleep well Royals.