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As I found out this morning. Wake up, think: I really must have that shower this morning. The one I meant to have last night,...
He slips into my shamefully wet pussy with ease, instinctively knowing where to find me, and experience telling both of us how best to move. I clench around him and luxuriate in his moans of blissful satisfaction at filling me once more.
It can start so innocently, a cuddle, a kiss, neck strokes, my arm snaked round you then the sexual tension crackles and you feel that I’m your good little girl to do with as you will, pushing my head down, making me put my lips to your interested cock. The breath catching in your throat as I tease that I don’t want it, my head pulling away and pushing backwards on your hand, which in turn changes from gently guiding me down, to wrapping your fist in a fluid twist motion that you’ve used on me countless times before, around my hair, to force my mouth not only around your cock but impale me on it, the angry head striking the back of my throat with a brute unyielding force.
I'm lying, fairly spent, dizzy, empty headed and happy after another energetic, frenzied choking fetish session. The sheets are twisted and rumpled, around and between us. Our bodies hot and coated in a light sheen while we lay partially across each other, not sure where one ends and the other begins.
It's simply amazing sleeping with him. The orgasms he has, and the orgasms he can give me. I love how he takes me, forcefully, but more than that I love how easily I bring him right to the edge of an orgasm, within minutes sometimes.
He moves stealthily, seductively, between light and shadow, between purity and evil. Flickering like a candle flame in my breast, teasing with illumination and heat, yet ready to be gone from me at any time. I am completely stolen by him.