The rain came down all night, it felt good blowing in my window–the crisp cool air combined with the muggy heat inside my bed. We very rarely get the opportunity to behave like true lovers, mostly we just fuck. But last night– we fucked the outside away–lost love, those dreams that have warped, ideas of what true love is, reality, life, work–the bullshit all faded away with each thrust.
We let it all go, whatever it is that we all hang onto that keeps us holding back from the true fucking, the true conduit of man to woman. The mind has to be nearly erased for some of us to reach this point. It can happen with the right lover, but more often it never does, or it does and then that spirit takes flight again–leaving one or the other–wounded and scared and back on the run.
Last night, there was none of that. It was pure. It was late when he finally made it over from his day, I was already in bed–half sleeping. I left the door unlocked for him. Not moving, but sensing his presence–he moved around me almost like an lost animal or a child trying to get in bed with his parents. I rolled over, eye to eye, and in that instant everything around us became completely irrelevant. Our breaths, our lips–the room heats up quickly, the rain our soundtrack.
He wastes no time getting out of the day and into the night. I watch him begin to remove his clothing. Motioning him to the bed, I take pleasure in unbuttoning his proletariat man shirt, with each unbutton his scent fills my nose, circling my brain–intoxicating me with smell. Sitting up further in bed, I place my cheek to your chest taking you in–your undershirt still keeping me from male flesh. Backing off a bit, I roll over in the bed, turning, an invitation for you to stroke my backside, my shoulders, my spine–delineated under my plum colored tank top– my round ripe ass–covered by small simple, white cotton panties– and the back of my thighs, that shiver under your touch. Your fingers meeting my skin, then your lips, your hands begin to take me in. I love the feeling of your lips and breath on my neck and shoulders.
Shifting. Standing above me, removing your shirts, you glance down, insinuating your cock toward me. Stretching out I run my legs up your strong standing thighs, my toes– painted in their February red–begin to slide across you heavy branch. Twitch. I know I let out I sigh. Every time I first touch your cock I let out a sigh. When I feel you grow it makes me so insatiable and hungry and slutty and not there. I become the other. Almost jolting up, taken over. My thighs flank your body, my chest on you, my mouth dripping. I rub my tits onto your cock, still so trapped, yet somewhat safe. With my hands I mash them together caressing and enveloping your stiff tucked away cock.
Unbutton. Set it free. Slow–you are revealed and your rise sets me on fire.
“Do you want this cock?”
Pleading and begging with only a nod and that look, that look of pure fuck me.
Taking a slight step back, you unbutton. I watch your slow and torturous movement. You tease. Grabbing onto the back of my neck, into my hair you pull me in. The scent of jeans, clean laundry, male musk, and cock fill me. My breath hot upon your cock, through fabric. The sultrienss of two mingle. I need your trunk. There is nothing else. I need you in my mouth, I need to know, I need to know your cock is mine–at least for now. My lips parts, running the legth of your branch, catching on the fabric. I am a hungry slut, I am about to burst out in tears, I want your cock so bad.
You push me down and away, your force making me ache. Ache to feel you, taste, devour.
” You such a slut. You want this cock so bad. Don’t you?”
I lick my lips and a whimpering “please” escapes into the world.
“Get on the chair.”
Grabbing my wrist, you help pull me up, one hand around my wrist the other palm feeling my ass. Kneading cotton covered flesh.
Directing my body to the chair, your hand comes to the front and your fingers press into the folds of my pussy the cotton absorbing all the juice from my lips. But the more you rub, the more liquid pours out.
“Sit.”
To your knees you go, lifting my legs, propping them so my thighs spread as you continue to feel my puffy full pussy willow. My breath has come to almost a complete stop, so heavy, lusty as I watch your head lower between my open thighs. Your nose first, smells deep, breathing me in, then you breath me out, the heat of your breath fills my pussy and swirls, trapped my panties. Dropping your mouth open wide you, my whole pussy in you, but you don’t move you just take me in. Take my core, my center, me for me.
Raising to look at me, my head hanging in desire, eyes slit and lost. I feel your fingers slip into the band of my panties. I hear your sounds of discovery.
” Such a wet kitty.”
Droping, licking up all that has seeped out, your fingers then sinking in and find me, hit me, that spot–that sweet sweet spot.
I don’t hold back, I want it so badly, I want you so badly, I need you to make me cum. Sweet release. Two fingers, barley moving–your forehead drops on my lower belly. Moving so slow, I cum into you, onto you. My cunt coos and moans like an animal. When you feel my release into your hand you have no more options.
With a force and determination of a man who must fuck, your pull my thighs into you. Not even taking your pants off just down–hard dick is mine. Pre-cum has formed on your crown, you rub it into my panties, your cock dragging across the fabric leaving a new wet spot. Yanking the white cotton aside, where your fingers were just filling me–you finally fill me. You fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me and fuck me and your cock makes everything else disappear and there is no you, no me. There is no rational, no logic.
Just true fucking.
