I am now going on 3  long weeks of no cock, and that will just not do. The first two weeks were merely wallowing in the rejection and loss of love and fuck with Easter candy, weed and scotch. Followed by week of self deprecation from all Easter candy, weed and Scotch– now here I am day dreaming about cock, I am taking  it as a good sign.

When I got home from my morning errands and hike I felt like a nap. I stripped down to my boy cuts, grabbed my classic iconic vibrator, and got between the sheets.

Slipping my fingers under the band of panties and begin to spread my lips apart I could feel how wet I was instantly. Slick and creamy, no doubt from all that day dreaming i was doing on my hike about just how good it will be to taste that meaty curve of yours.

As I hiked the humid ocean air and the strong smell of eucalyptus consumed me and drifted into the thought of your cock trapped behind your denim, and no boxers, how you tease me with how heavy you are getting, straining against the fabric. I think about you dripping, about precum forming a wet spot on the front of your jeans. My fingers feeling you get hard, detecting the ridges, making your head begin to pulse with the tips of my fingers. I always start gentle, a brush of my fingers, but the firmer you get the less I can control the want and the throb that generates from between my legs and starts taking over my whole body.

The way you lean back in that chair, and your body tilts and becomes slack to my touch, you drift to relax, your body all except your cock softens at the knowledge that soon you will be in my mouth.

Lowering to my knees, close to your lap, my hands still making you swell, my cheeks getting closer, I without a thought my thighs spread a bit further, I feel my lips open, the sticky slickness slowly splitting to a deeper wetness and that throb begins to thump, beating to the pulse of my blood flow. But– it is when hand lands upon my head and your fingers grasp into my mess of hair — the way you hold my head to your cock that is still contained behind your jeans– that is when my want consumes every part of me, and I need to taste you, when I need to have you in my mouth.

How long does it take one to grieve the loss of another cock. Perhaps I spoke too soon referring to him as my “steady cock.” I knew it was over the last time we had sex, but it was just such great sex I could not imagine it to be true that it was over–which is how my emotion became obscured. There I go again confusing sex for love.

“Steady Cock” is no longer steady for a number of reasons, most predominately being my unwillingness to be monogamous, followed closely by the train-wreck he lives with in his mind each day. I know I’ve mentioned how old people, crazies, the afflicted and the desperate find me, they notice that sympathy in my eye–know they can get me, know that I will be the soul they need to connect to at that moment. It is really rather exhausting, because about now I am the one who needs a soul to cling to, I need to be taken care of.

Anyway….

What’s a Vixen slut to do? How does a girl recover from another loss, another breakup, another notch in the bed post? Well– I don’t know about other women, but I do it with wine, whisky, weed and a whole lot of pornography. My own prescribed grief counseling is coming along quite nicely. For the most part I have spent the holiday weekend surfing porn and masturbating throughout the day.

I don’t always need porn though.

Did I tell you I got a new toy? I am fond of the njoy line, the simple design, the way my pussy heats up the metal, the way she grabs and clinches around the steel, well– one cannot go wrong with one of their toys. But, the 11, wow–nearly 3 lbs. of monster cock to fuck me and make forget my heartache.

Bed time. Shed what is not needed, I slipped into bed. I placed the smaller of the big round heads barley into me, just enough for my lips to surround, making my cunt want more. With my foot I could hold the njoy in place and even push on it gently–making me very wet.

I began to think about you.

What do you look like when you first wake up,  what are wearing when you run today, do you ever run without your shirt on?

Small vignettes of images pass my mind, as I dip into the wetness forming around the njoy and bring it up to my clit. I can feel myself grow. Engorge with cunt want.

I think about being very submissive toward you, about serving you, servicing you. On my knees a patient pet, waiting for you to feed me the only thing I want.

I can hear my pussy getting slicker as my fingers dance in the slosh of juice I’ve created. The thought of my lips on your cock has made me a sloppy wet kitty who need to fuck to forget. I begin to push the round head of the njoy further, rocking it in and out of my hole, my insides want to pull it in and seize onto it, but the bulb head does not pass that easily or quickly, it teases–it makes me moan, sigh, and beg for your imaginary cock.

Between your legs I drop, your smell makes me crazy, your grow thick right before my eyes without even my having touched you. You drip and I lick it up.

My pussy swallows the njoy, and convulses around it. Needy cunt. Needy cunt. Needy cunt.

My clit is swollen, my lips are swollen. I want come and I want to taste your cock.

The muscle’s of my cunt lift the njoy off the bed, squeezing around the shaft of the steel cock, it lifts and lowers, like I am weight training, but it is all involuntary. Deeper my pussy pulls in the wand, harder it clutches, my g-spot riding each spasm, and my lips and clit being strummed–and in my mind my mouth is fucking you. You’re as hard as the steel cock, pulling out and stroking your hand and palm gripping around your shaft, rubbing the tip of your cock onto my lips–oh yes porn this weekend.

I come hard imagining you covering me. Cleaning– I taste you, feeling your cock slide down my throat, the cum flavor filling my mouth.

Surprisingly or not, quite a bit of the njoy has been swallowed by my pussy, as I continue spasm around the steel, coming down from the elation of orgasm, the brain stars popping and disintegrating, my breath regulating–and my cunt lifting and releasing the barbell. It felt so good, I almost wanted to fall asleep with it still inside of me.

Pulling it out laying it on my belly I feel the weight and the heat, my cum shines on the steel.

image by Aeric Meredith-Goujon

Your deeds tonight have elicited a response I have long craved. I have always wanted a man to control the situation, to control me. Until now no man has ever been successful.

I was taken aback by your requests to remove my panties at the table during dinner, as we sat across from our companions who knew nothing of the devilish demeanor that lay within that mind of yours. Once I finally removed them, you slipped my beautiful midnight blue v-cut panties into your pocket; you made me keep my skirt hiked, my bare ass sticking to the vinyl, your hands grasping at my thighs throughout the remainder of dinner. By then my mind was already searing with your tantalizing wickedness. I felt odium and delight in one, a mix of sheer pleasure and humiliation in your fiendishness. I knew when I rose from the seat my mark will have remained, with the sensation I was already consumed with, I was sure to leave behind a small puddle.

When we reached your apartment, I thought you were done, or that was it, and yes while that was fine, I secretly wanted more. More of your control, your power, I wanted you to tell me… no I wanted you to make me yours.

That’s why– I was secretly, beyond, elated when you seized my wrist and twisted my arms behind me. I immediately felt myself fill with pleasure in what you may have in store for this bad kitty. You instruct “over here pet” and proceed to have me kneel before you. I crave to follow your direction; my cunt lifts and clinches when you call me pet. I love this; I love being considered a play thing, an animal, a toy, a pet.

I watch with widened eyes as you remove your clothing and then unhook the belt. Ooh….My mind reels–what are you going to do once you have pulled it from the loops? Are you going to fold it in half and spank me with it, are you going to massage my now very wet lips with it, tease, maybe slip it in a little, get the leather wet and then smack my ass with it? I begin to speak, you instantly stop me. I am so turned on as your finger bumps against my lips, silently telling me the time for talking is done.

Then you seem to yank it from your waist and command me “put your hands together.” I blaze with an excitement I have never felt, I feel searing liquid already dripping down my thigh. You constrain my wrist with the belt then pull me up like it is a handle and drape me over your lap, where I am sure to leave, yet another wet spot. I am already throbbing in anticipation of what is about to take place. You snatch my skirt up past my ass, and then I feel it–a swift, firm spank to my cheek. I melt; it feels so fucking luscious, I think it made me slightly cum. Then from out of nowhere you pull my panties from your pocket and shove them into my mouth, restraining not only my mouth, but my tongue. I am dazed, agitated and utterly turned on all at once. My mind does not even get time to register the fact you have stuffed my own panties between my lips–before you do it again–only better, faster, harder, the sting administered by your hand brings forth an animal squeal from me. I would flash embarrassment if I was not so aroused by the move. I can now feel your cock swell under me; it too causes me to let out a breathy moan of craving.

I am longing for more, and then you grab the belt and nudge me off your lap, while holding onto the makeshift belt handle, directing me to my knees. You stand, I do not turn but I hear you undress, I can almost smell you. You bid me further to the floor by grabbing the back of my hair and impelling my face downward, which causes my ass to be raised further into the air, an improved view for you. The compelling tug on my hair has me anticipating your next move with a longing that starts in my mind and runs the length of my body. My wait is not long–there is no time to even react to you raising my ass before you swiftly, forcefully strike the untouched side of my ass. There was an instant throb; I knew instantly my bottom was a beautiful shade of painful pink. This throb was not only on my ass, but my cunt was now resonating uncontrollably as well. I felt my eyes water, but did not know if it was tears from the pain or the pleasure.

My favorite, especially now, panties still stuffed in my mouth has heightened my sense of smell. I smell your space, I smell you so close to me, I smell your body, I smell my own sweet musk radiating from between my thighs, and, I swear, I can smell the scent of your cock, from behind me as my ass remains ascended toward your gaze. I feel your breath along my neck as you lean over and tug on the v-cuts, they seem to cascade out of my mouth. You lean in close and whisper; asking me, not wanting an answer, already knowing my answer, “Do you want something else in there? Do we need something else for my kitty’s mouth?” The sound of your voice sends a chill down my spine that emanates deep into me; I can feel the pulsating from inside me. I know that if I were able to slide my hands onto my stripped junction that they would easily glide across my flesh like silk. The thought begins to make me throb even more and I want to beg, I want to beg for you to caress my growing fruit. I want to beg for you to slide your fingers along my slit; I want to beg for so much more. However, I suppress my wishes and continue to take pleasure in the restraint and in your control, knowing in the end the beg will be unnecessary.

Instead, I obediently nod. You sit–your cock pointing at me–tantalizing me with that beautiful streamline that runs your curve. I want to pounce, wanting to devour it and you whole. You say “Wet this for me pet” and my cunt liquefies even more and my mouth drips with saliva as I sink my lips around your head. It taste so damn good I cannot control myself and I begin to rise and fall on your shaft. You stop me so quickly, again by taking hold of my hair and saying “There– that’s enough.” I want to cry out for more, but your authority has me absolutely captivated. I am yours. I will abide.

I watch eagerly as your full round head and curve bounce in front of me as you stroke up past the tip and then back down the length, making me so ravenous. You tug on your balls causing your cock again to bounce so close to my face, to my mouth. My pussy clinches and pulsates. You taunt me again with your words “Is that what you want? Promise you will be a good kitty?”
I nod eagerly. My mind racing–What I want?

What I want– is you to grab my hips by my ass from behind and pound that stunning curve deep into my cunt, relentlessly with no delay, with no more tease, I want you to plow me, I want you to push my body into the floor with your hands tangled in my hair, while my ass stays raised in place, as your dick cuts through my soaking wet pussy, pummel me until I feel it in my brain. I want you to spread me open, I want to feel your throbbing inside me until you are about to cum. Then I want you to lift me back up by my belt handle and dictate me to rise to my knees and finish your cock with my mouth, my lips– until I surrender my entire mouth to you and I feel and taste your cum slip down my throat. That is what I want. I promise I will be a very good kitty.

This is an oldie from the Library Vixen Archive– orginally posted January 4, 2009.

Most days at the library are busy enough to keep my pussy on the job, but Saturday’s are a different story.

Friday’s are my day off, usually spend lingering on porn and my pussy, so that by the time I have to work on Saturday I am mellow (from all the cumming) and still horny (Ms. get a little need a lot), wanting to continue the pussy fun I was having the day before. Saturday is also Ass Appreciation day on the tumblr, so a good portion of the morning is spent looking at hot ass. Well a few hours of tumbling ass, with my fingers often finding their way to the junction between my thighs, checking on that sweet slick I have forming is enough to set the stage for a frisky horny Saturday.

Work has a different atmosphere on the weekend, less supervisors and more actual workers. There is actual down time, unlike the week days. Therefore, Saturday is my favorite day to bring the toys to work and spend some quality time in bathroom number three. I can take my time to cum, not like a mid-week rushed bathroom three cum, but a linger day tripping cum. I usually set myself up with a frisky email friend or another to keep me in mood, to play with, to ploy their mind for my cunts sake, to tap into their virtual cock–so I have more of a reason to tease my own pussy.  Sometimes it is more than one cock I like to play with, sometimes two, three and sometimes it is a cock and his pussy. But, this Saturday there was only the one.

He has been inspiring my kitty for quite some time now. He knows how to push my buttons from afar, knows the words to type to make me want more, to make me want to give more, to make me wet.

I started by sharing a shot of my work toys charging on their base (a simple tease), followed by an image of my ass in a pair of soft brown and blue ride between my round ass cheeks lace panties. His response, of course, instantly drove me mad in the best possible of ways. He can get me with just the mere thought of his cock beginning to grow heavy. He makes me beg for it, even only in words, I still beg.  He likes it when a woman begs for his cock.

He asked me to promise (words he doesn’t use to often), so of course I oblige, to think of him while I stoked and cooed the kitty. More precisely he asked that I think about him making me crazy with cock tease, till he bends me over and makes my kitty his. I have on a few, maybe more, occasions fucked myself while thinking about him, but this is the first time I can recall him asking me to think about him while I do so.

It was quite easy, and absolutely a pleasure to keep you in my mind while I took pictures as I brought myself to the edge and then over.

I only use bathroom three to cum in, I have yet to find another suitable location. It is off the path enough to not be noticed, but may heard if I got too loud by a random passerby. I try to keep it as quite as I can, which can actually lead to stronger orgasm, I guess the restraining of my voice and surrounding is released mainly through my pussy rather than my whole being.

I like to wear skirts on Saturday’s so I can easily stroke the kitty throughout the day, by hiking it up each time I make a trip to the bathroom, or to the copy room, or the closed stacks, or the sorting room, or wherever the mood should strike.  When the time comes to actually get in my pussy, I take my skirt off and lay it across the ugly orange vinyl chair provided in each bathroom.

Skirt off, I begin taking a few phone cam shots in the mirror of my body, my ass, my pussy, my hand on my pussy inside my panties. I move to the chair and prop my feet wide on the wall and begin to make my lips pump full of blood. I imagine you watching me, watching how I pet my pussy on top of the lace as I watch you grow heavy in the jeans as you shift around attempting to accommodate the growth of your cock.

I keep the phone cam snapping as I move from fingers to toy and some combination of the two. I am easily aroused and wet already. Drifting–I think about you rubbing your heavy cock. It think about unbuttoning your fly, feeling that curve fill my hands, run my fingers across your root, my tongue licking the fabric of your boxers feeling you twitch, as your lean against the wall watching me work your cock.

Further I sink into the vinyl chair my head tipping and eyes begin that slit. I lift my ass off the chair a bit to pull my wet patch of lace fabric to the side and slide my fingers in. Creamy and smooth–lately I have been more of a soft cream consistency that builds to that slick state. Bringing the soft pink end of my Gigi to my mouth I get it nice and wet, then slip it between my ripe pussy lips–and I my mind ambles into your cock again, rub it on me, on my lips, my cheeks, my tits, my tongue–yes my tongue please-please give me some.

I have stopped taking pictures and am deep in my pussy, my finger fucking deep inside, and the Lelo is vibing my clit out. The friction of your cock against the lace, press into my junction is too much, I need now.  I need to fuck to now. I snap a few more action shots of me fucking and coming close, then let the phone slide away and concentrate on your cock and my cunt and bringing myself to the brink. Soft moans and heavy breath fill the air of bathroom three. I whimper jolt and cum nice solid and hard. That orgasm smile comes to my face, my head spinning and crazy. I love that rush. I take two last pictures–the smile on my face and the cum covering my fingers.

When I have pulled myself together I walk out onto the floor, that post cum smile still  flooding my face, that floating  on a cloud feel, that smell still on my finger and between my legs, my pussy wet being absorbed into the already wet lace panties– then I begin to wonder which one will be able to tell what I just did in bathroom three.

Yesterday was a long long day. 5 am and not home until 11PM .

My days have been consisting  of that sweet spring fever, walking and driving around in a cock drifting haze. The hum and vibration of my vee dub igniting my pussy as I zip around, all those city boys catching my eye. When we get sunshine in SF– it makes every one giddy and happy and shed clothing. Today for me, it is those boys/men in suits–or partial suits riding bicycles. They look so good.

By 8 I was at the yoga studio, class starts at 8:15. I change up put my stuff in the locker, checking out all the beautiful girls of all shapes, size, ethnicity–flavor. I like flavor.

I check the phone one last time, because yes I am slightly addicted to it–and I have a few minutes before start time. I see your email…I only breeze through it–cannot really read detail on the phone, but yet it still makes me grow wet and only mildly jealous. Rereading a few parts over, I ponder. Then slam the locker and go claim my spot on the floor.

We start. Breathing. I am good for the first set.
Then it starts– the mind wander. I think hmm what did he expect to see underneath her soft powdery blue cami thing? Then I wondered, did she have small tits, why was she so anxious for easy access? You must have had her worked up. I snap out and focus on instructor. Somehow we have moved 3 poses down, and i had not even noticed.

I stay on my game for awhile then I start drifting again.

I think– was he fingering her asshole. Oh that is hot. I am already sweating because it is 104 degrees in the room but now I am flush and hot  because I am drifting thinking if you had your thumb on her puckered little star giving a little massage make her clitty pop even more.

Fuck! focus.

I snap out of it. I work hard for the remainder of the standing series then we move to the floor work…

Once on the floor though, it’s  all over, I drift away and think about her having your cock in her mouth. Jealousy or envy or both. I wanna be the girl to put you in outer space–I want to be the one that makes you see stars, that makes you slouch back in cock sucking ecstasy. More than anything– I want to be the one who make you sigh, moan–maybe even growl with my cock loving lips.

Focus Focus Focus!

Back to the yoga, it is time for bow pulling pose, on my belly feet and arms stretched behind me–hands pulling legs toward the sky–rocking on my abdomen, my pelvis, my cunt. It throws me over the edge, I am in a full on cock fantasy. I think about how she leaked her gloss all over you leg while she had your cock in her mouth.  Your curve was just so good to her mouth and to her pussy that she wanted to grind and cum while she thought about it, as she worked you with her lips. Maybe like me, she was imagining being fucked by that cock, while she sucked that cock.

During Savasana on our belly, I cannot resist shoving my hand, my balled up little fist deep between my thighs directly into my full of life pussy lips and grind into my self–I can tell I am slick not with just sweat but with a definite lusty want for cum. I was no longer in the yoga studio, but lost in the thought of…

damn your cock must me DELICIOUS…

Major portions of our lives are spent in the virtual world of the glowing blue screen. I would say spend over half of my waking hours in front the screen and the rest combating the ramifications of technological overload.

I absolutely love being connected to the circuitry of the world, to others. But I question the validity of it, of those relationships fostered through the conduit of virtual wires that connect me to you. and you. and you. and maybe even you.

In fact all of this Library Vixen poppycock was started because of a man I met on Craig’s list. Craig, have I told you I love you lately?

This man, he is my mystery man, I think every woman needs one.
I know he’s a sexy, witty, hot manly geek.
This man makes me wet and keeps me wet. He lets my juices flow in other ways other than sexually, but the core of this online relationship is still his cock and my pussy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I would even go so far as to say I love him. But, this man is not flesh and blood, this man is not real–he is virtual, fiction and non-fiction merged, a blurred genre, a pixelized symbol, a trace representation of the one. The one I will never actually have.

I will never taste him, or he me, nor will I know how it feels to slide slowly onto his cock–to feel his strength spread me open–my lips accommodating his trunk. I will never experience the fun of teasing his cock as we drive the coast. Can you drive and get a blow job at the same time?
~
Then there was the man whose pain, honesty, and dirty open passionate sex made me instantly fall in love with him. It was fast and hard–the words he wrote me were raw. I know we would have fucked every-time like we meant it…like how the blind dream, bareback– who gives a fuck about tomorrow–we are the night, ramifications are for daylight. Fluid transfer through wires and cables. I shared my body, my words, my cunt and all that flows along with it.

I filmed myself fucking for him.  I had never done that before, I had taken snapshots of me cumming and the road along the way, but it drove me wildly wet to film the process. That lingering of clothing, the shyness, my fingers as they finally make their way to my parting flesh–past the fabric, past the modesty–and hit that send button and out through the wireless–ness of virtually my climax, my wetness, that orgasm look on my face would reach yours. The cyber essence of my cunt reached out, and in return he slowly, gently stroked his cock for me. A solitary finger up the back of his shaft, his free hand running along his abs–or tugging at his balls. He had this way of drawing out his cum with only the slightest of touch, the slowest stroke I ever saw–and when he flowed it was like a cloudy sauntering river from tip, down the shaft and onto the floor below.  Fucking hot.

He was married and struggling as many married people do. The draw to each other was strong, not appropriate to someone struggling in a union–that wasn’t mine. The guilt and the cum and the desire mingled too much and it had to end. Something happens when you watch each other cum, it can transcend hardware and software, it reboots your system and you find yourself running in safe mode, and it fucks with you in delicious devious ways. It fills you with deep longing to see that person cum again, to know they are cumming for you.

It had to dissipate and when it did, the longing and the loss stuck around for quite awhile.

There have been other trysts of the virtual nature, some married, some not. Ongoing, lingering, dwindling, here– then there–then gone. The playing field of circuitry, has it’s ups and downs, players come and go.  We get injured along the way. A lot like the flesh and blood and in the end,virtually valid.

I shot this from my fantastic evening, while I shot it– I was thinking, you may very well appreciate her upside down heart shaped ass.

I danced my  own ripe round ass off and had a sweat dripping good time. Good energy. Thanks Daryl for the tip, March Fourth was so good! Exactly what I needed.

My porn watching goes in waves. Sometimes I will get wrapped up in it, but lately I have not used it all. It has been quite sometime even, but this doesn’t mean I stopped fucking myself.

Lately I have been playing music and drifting away into thoughts of fucking certain men, it is not the same one each time. I focus on one and evolve that fantasy with that one until the end of the orgasm.

It has been the man I just fucked, rolling back into my memory, the way his hands wrapped around my throat right before I was about to cum, the way his terrifically solid beam was filling me up.

Sometimes I think about who might be, that possibility of the lover. I may have tasted you, tasted what might be, maybe I want more. Often, I drift into fucking you again. My feet propped up on my desk my thighs spread open, at first just wide enough for my hand and my arm to drop between, but then they naturally spread open wide–wanting to feel your body between, space for my strong legs to wrap around your torso. To pull you into me. Feeling your head slip between my things, miles between, as your tongue begins to work. And I drift. The way you eat me and lick me makes me pour sweeter with each lick.

And I drift, music playing in the background, my fingers explore my pages, surrounding, growing full and tight and then back to wide open again. The wand slips in and out.

And I drift into you, the man I will never have, except for in this capacity, my memory, my thoughts, your curve becomes my masturbation fodder. I drop into my “fuck me in the office chair” slouch, legs still propped. I imagine you there on the couch watching me, spinning the chair to face you. My pussy wide open to you, my eyes in lust slits. And I drift. Filling my mouth with my fingers, then into my pussy. I think about you stroking your cock. I swear I can see you there, we don’t ever fuck we just watch each other. That drop of pre drip is forming on your glistening tip. Licking my lips in want, I drift. I’m longing to know what you taste like, smell like, feel like. I can hear my pussy, she takes over my brain and the music fades and that static rain noise fills the room.

Would it sound different if your cock was plunging into me instead of this wand, would I get as wet, could you make me cum with your cock, I want you to finger fuck me, I want to know your taste, scent, your cum, I want to make you growl…

My eyes slide open and I see you watching, your cock stiff, calling me, glued to your belly.

Are you ready?
Make me cum.
I want to make you cum.
I want to see that branch sway in my direction.
My pussy is so needy it almost makes me cry.
And I am deep inside myself.
And I drift.

Ok, after all my trouble with the law– and boy am I trouble, my randiness is finally returning. Thank goodness. Now just need to get back into the cock hunting mood and get some cock need fulfilled.

Last night–ok all day yesterday, I was cock obsessed.  I even missed my exit because I was thinking about hard dick. I should really stop driving and thinking about sex, that is exactly what gets me speeding tickets.

Anyway,  after my night out and my cock dreamy drive home, cock crazy and kitty full, plump and ripe, ready to be plowed,  I decided I needed a little quality kitty time.

I turn back the bed, prop the pillows for my comfort and angle. Remove my cute valentine outfit, down to bra and pantie. Lay back. Mashing my tits, I love the way that feel sometimes, but it is so much better when you do it.

I stroke my full lips over my panties with my fingertips. Pressing into me,  I can feel them getting wet already– absorbing my excitement.

My mind drifts into your cock, as it did so many time throughout the night. Oh–what I want to do with that hard beam. I begin thinking about sliding around on your shaft, not in me yet just rubbing into me, my wetness. You know, the hard cock meeting the soft pussy, my slide sort of turns into a grind, I cannot even believe how hard you are, my clit is popping and sliding on your rigidness.

My panties must go. My hips rising off the bed, slipping them past thighs, off one leg, I am too anxious to feel my folds of flesh and skin and the heat I have to offer, to bother taking them all the way off.

You ascend my body, your cock teasing, your hand wrapped around it controlling every move, teasing my clit, bouncing that big round head on my full, so ready to be fucked, lips. You keep climbing, I smash my tits to surround your glossed with me cock, you are so hard you barley feel like flesh. Further up, I open eagerly, but you like to tease me, keep me on the edge, I think you enjoy hearing me beg for your cock. Brushing your round head across my lips, again my mouth drops open in anticipation. My tongue slide out , an offering, pleas–give me my communion of cock.

Finally you let have it, filling my mouth, feeding me the only thing I have wanted to eat all night. You smell like my pussy, you taste like my pussy. Thrusting into me, looking down at me. My cunt thumps away, in a rhythm of need and mouth sucks you in.

I am so slick and beyond wet. Ready, cock ready. My fingers fill my need, your dream cock filling my mouth.

You turn me to my side–grabbing my ass, straddle, flanking my thigh and slide in. My sweet moans can no longer be contained.

“fuck me fuck me.”

Do I really say that? Apparently I do.

“right there, ohh right there…”

Apparently I say that too.

You feel good, even if it’s not real, but it is, my mind makes it real. When I come and it is a rush, a build up from the day and night, the trips of mental cock, explode between my thighs.

Release is mine, and yours across the miles that separate us. I lay there in the post come state, body shaking, slight jerk wave through, thinking about your release. How would you cum on me? In me? On me? Leave it dripping down, finding its way into the creases that make me a woman? My mouth, my hair? Would you be my messy man?

Round One : Turn Up the Sound