Late… but not TOO late.

A few lusty words for anyone out there reading.

 

I stroke his body with my dry, soft hands. His silken skin slowly heats to my touch, expanding, thickening with lust. I hear the difference in his breathing, from an almost imperceptible, steathly relaxation to the quickened pace of expectation; sporadic inhales when I hit just the right spot with my thumb.

I’m beginning to know his body well, more intimately than I know my own and I’ve been with him for only a few short months. I’m obsessed with bringing him pleasure and very little turns my body liquid but for his face in the throws of passion. Making him moan is my new sexual mayhem and hearing his words of erotic greed make me a fool in venereal captivity.

As he begins soft thrusts of his lean hips I climb in between his legs teasing him with the expectation of a hot, wet mouth around his hard cock. I don’t treat him to this yet, but part my dry lips and wet them with my tongue. His eyelids lower and he groans.

I press my free fingers between his legs, to his satin pants. Only the fly is exposing the hot flesh; everything else is hidden below his pajama bottoms. I rub beneath his balls, relishing the pleasure he receives. I feel it too, the electricity between my legs, something I’ve never felt at this level.

He’s close but I know how to bring him closer. I lower my fingers and rub between his parted cheeks. The pressure on this tender area and the sensation of satin there is enough to bring him to the edge. I lower my mouth over the hot head of his dick and begin stroking him with my tongue, remembering to still rub his balls, ass and the space between.

He comes quickly, loudly, not something he does often and I continue stroking him, unhurriedly now. His breathing begins to slow and I pull away. He’s finished for now and I find momentary bliss in the pleasure I’ve brought him.

 

That’s it for now, loves!!

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