Photo
Photo
fuckingforpleasure: Deeply one.
Deeply one.
lanearabella: she liked his unique smell… and it turned on all...
she liked his unique smell… and it turned on all five of her senses… wanting to see him naked… touch him while naked… hear him as he moaned while he made love… taste his skin…and feel his naked body as she seduced him with the trailing of hungry fingers…
keira d. skye
girlsrule-subsdrool: A local male/female couple talked to me...
A local male/female couple talked to me last night about submitting to me. Not sure about our compatibility yet (he's usually Dominant; he's got a beard; haven't really talked with her yet), but he DID say he was also a chef and would love to give me orgasms and then cook me a meal.
Let's see if this turns into anything, shall we?)
Photo
johnsmith67: Amen
Amen
ctboston: The hum of the vibrator, the feel of my whiskers...
The hum of the vibrator, the feel of my whiskers brushing against you. Your sweet taste on me, circling, flickering, feeling you raising your hips for more.
That, that would feel awesome!
johnsmith67: kat-snaughtyniceties: daddymike976: I'm gonna...
I'm gonna get me one of those…. *Smirk
C'mon you didn't think I could let this one pass without commenting….
NOW…. I'm off for real… have a great day!
Photo
dick-and-jane:
Photo
yourbadgrrl: superbrave: yourbadgrrl: Tease me, please me,...
Tease me, please me, Daddy…oh!
mmmm…I AM DEVOURING YOU. I AM STALKING YOU. Teeth flashing…eyes a cold stare. You do as I say, pretty girl. And do it NOW.
I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Wolf. Ravish me!
johnsmith67: Charm, Class, Confidence, Charisma. Sound...
Charm, Class, Confidence, Charisma. Sound familiar?
lanearabella: they were kissing… no light brush this time… no...
they were kissing… no light brush this time… no exploring touch… this was all tongues and wicked wetness as he kissed her like a man who had rough… sweaty… dirty sex on his mind …
nalini singh
Photo
dirtystorytime: dirtystorytime: Good Morning. I seem to have...
Good Morning.
I seem to have stirred earlier than you today. Your beautiful body highlighted by the sun as it streams through our window. The shadows of the window pane traces your breasts, your stomach, hips and legs. You are stunning, and the sun is my witness.
Are you dreaming about us? You smile in your sleep. Content. The cool breeze chills you, and gives a slight hardness to your nipples. My own nocturnal arousal has caused a hardness of my own. One that will not wait until you wake to be sated.
I gently part your legs, to taste the morning dew on your flower. A sweet nectar to be sure. I can feel you stir, but fall back to slumber. Did your dream just get a little better? My fingers part your lips as I slide up your body and enter you.
This is not the time for fucking. No hard thrusts or furious pace. This is a time to be savored. Slow, deliberate lovemaking. My hands and arms engulf your face. I whisper mellifluously into your ear, 'I love you, baby. I need you so much.'
Our light delicate moans intermingle. Our heavy breathing entwines. You open your eyes just enough as you moan in delight. As I release my love inside of you. You smile, content again, "I love when you wake me up".
Control
Control
Photo
dirtystorytime: "If a writer falls in love with you, you will...
"If a writer falls in love with you, you will never die."
It's true. That writer will describe things in their stories that are clearly you. Objects of yours, mannerisms, and personality traits; all the little things that uniquely make you you. Your qualities will be given away. The way your eyes change color in the light will find their way to the description of a girl in a romance story. The jean shorts you wear, on the backside of a character in a mystery. The smirk, the grin and the way your eyes look down and up when you're in the mood. All put on the faces of other women when I write. They say that imitation is the greatest form of flattery. Being captured on paper over and over is the way that a writer will ensure your legacy lives on.
But never dying is little consolation when you're gone. How will you live your life should a writer fall for you? I can tell you…Your life will never be boring.
He'll tell you about the time he walked from the little bed and breakfast he stayed in on the banks of the Seinne, how he crossed over the Passerelle Simone-de-Beauvoir pedestrian bridge. How he sat near a fountain in the Parc de Bercy. He'll vividly describe the fragrance of the flowers freshly in bloom in the June summer sky. How the birds sounded, chirping their love calls to one another. How it started to rain and how he ran to a café for shelter. Some time later you'll ask him when the last time he was in Paris was, and he'll tell you he's never been. Not in person, anyways.
If a writer falls in love with you, you will be regaled with stories everywhere you go. He'll tell you about people who walk down the street. A man in a cap with dress shoes on. His name is Robert and he has ten kids at home! But you can tell from the smile on his face that he's happy. He'll tell a story every time you look back through photo albums, every picture you ever print will be etched in his mind. Whether the story is true or not is another question. He will tell of the first pair of lovers that ever held hands, and how kisses came to be.
Your children will never need books of fairy tales, he'll dream up stories of pirates and high seas adventures. He'll tell them of talking elephants named Ben. He'll describe how Ben, the lap elephant, sat on him once and almost crushed him. He'll tell your children of the days of the dinosaurs, and how he once fought a dragon and saved the fair princess, and that the princess…is their mom! He'll tell tales of castles and moats and how his Scottish ancestry taught him how to toss a caber so they could escape that time they were chased by coyotes. Your children will never need fairy tales, but because he is a writer, your library will be filled with Cat in the Hat and Curious George and The Story of Ferdinand.
That writer will remind you of the time you walked hand in hand on the beach in Waikiki, with Diamond Head in the distance. He'll remind you how you frolicked in the surf and sand. How you got sunburned. You'll be so engaged, you'll forget you've never been to Hawaii together. He'll open his eyes and say, "we just were."
"He's lying!" you'll giggle when his recollections are unflattering. But he'll use words against you in explaining his revised truths.
"The word 'lie' is the enemy of imagination," he'll counter.
In those intimate moments when you're together, he'll come up with the best descriptions of lascivious behavior. He'll whisper sweet and dirty in your ear. He'll make you bite your lip. He'll make you tremble in anticipation. His words will leave you fluttering, before he ever lays a finger on you.
So therefore I say, if a writer falls in love with you, you will live a life of true excitement, and yes, you will never die.
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий