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like it's sooo hardXI
like it's sooo hardXI
"I am at ease in the arms of a woman
Although now most of my days are spent alone"
Never underestimate the power of a slow dance on the balcony.
The walk home was...brisk. and direct...no wandering around this time. He held her hand. Took it actually. She managed a soft "Oooh". And thye were on their way. There were occassional sidelong glances. She grinned continually it seemed. He held her gaze with a friendly contempt. When she wasn't looking at the ground in front of her and he wasn't smiling his ass off.
There was some key fumbling. She snorted her amusement. When he opened the dorr and the door swung open, they both watched it like the kids on Scooby Doo on the steps of a haunted mansion. Then they faced each other. "Well Stud? You sure you up to this?"
He kissed her there.
Shee took his ring,
Took his babies.
He took her image,
He took her nowhere,
Lordy knows he could 've taken everything..
they were the young americans"
Sometimes you just need to make sure that a woman knows that you're a man. that you will hunt.That you will drive off the big flesh eating animals. That you will drive off any and all threats to her, her safety, and her virtue. As a mammal you and you alone are the pack member with the most desirable seed. A lineage of future kings. The sons who will get out of the tree and into the tall grass.
It was "that" kind of kiss. Oh she did her best to keep up. Alpha female that she was, she caught the kiss's aproach a split second before impact and braced for it. "Damn!",she thought,"Now THIS is a man!" She falt her knees actually get kind of wobbly. Then a switch inside of her flipped and she decided that if he wanted her he was gonna have to earn her.
like i said...it was THAT kind of kiss.
She managed to find his hair with her hand. She was clawing her way our of the whirlpool and happened to find purchase there somehow. His muffled gasp(it had to be through his nose...their lips were welded together) was the opening she needed. Her hand cupped the back of his head...and pulled him, his face, his mouth, his lips, toward her. In the south they call it playin' possum. "Take that!", her mind screamed. The shear force of her desperate grasp had lifted her feet off of the ground. "My god! it's like he's anchored to the ground and i'm climbing him!"
And once again, the tide had turned upon her. It was this realization that brought the first small moan of the evening and he heard it like a tree groaning in the wind.
And he was pleased.
"Well, since I'm up here anyway...",ans with that she wrapped a72" of leg around him. Giggling ensued. Kissing continued unabated.
What struck him first was not how light she seemed, though it'made him wonder if she was too thin..."Last woman Idiot!". No, it was the supernova butning under her skirt where her crotch pressed against his stomach as she coiled around him. Solar flairs were cooler than the heat radiating from her box. Do condoms melt?
What struck him next was the ease with which he could slide his hand under her skirt as a result of he scaling him. As he discovered the flesh of her upper hamstring her body jumped like she had been shocked. He could swear the boiler jumped ten degrees as well. Her hands now held his face as her toungue went wild in HIS mouth. Sensing this was a sign that she was pleased with his invasion of her personal space, he continued his journey up the several miles of hamstring('Jesus! Just how much leg can a woman have?). He hesitated ever so briefly at the base of her ass, a crossroads having presented itself. His hads were large enough that they both knew he was a short rotation of his crip from being insid of her. He was certain she was there at the crossroads with him because, during his pause to plot his course, she, almost imperceptively..in fact most amatures might have missed it...began to tremble. A tiny quiver that very well could have been explained away as muscle fatigue had he not chosen his course.
He went overland. Opted for the climb. His hand glided...no, it dragged up to where her beltine would have been had she been wearing any pants (or any underwear for that matter). The further his hand rose the greater her she shook. By the time he began his decent, using the crack of her ass as a guide, she began to grind the sun that seperated them into his beltbuckle. She broke off their marathon kiss and attacked his neck and ears as he began softly caressing her labia with three of his fingers in a back and forth brushing motion. On the third or fourth pass he increased the weight of his caress. Three passes later his fingers were soaked to the point that he was now paint her pussy with herself. After four more slippery rides of love...her clit apeared. Now, he was certain it had been there all along. But he had never had a clitoris actully make an entrance. He nuged it twice thinking part of her labia had rolled together and needed seperateing(he did have a destination afterall). He bummped it twice more and finally his fingers slipped oner it like a speed bummp. At this she could no longer distract herself with his neck. She through her head back and let out a moan tha threatened to rise into a howl. The trembling gave way to full scale bucking. It wasn't so much that she was gringing against his beltbuck anymore...it wasn't even that time-honored first date tradition, the dry-hump. She wasn't consciously involved in this...this was involuntary...this was a spasm...a convulsion...an orgasm that bordered on the verge of siezure! Of course the fact that, after his clitoral discovery, he focussed on that amazing knoll of nerves and accellerated both his preasure and pace. Somewhere around the forth buck, he felt her loosen the vicelike grip of one of her thighs and lift her legs just enough to grab his fluttering hand. Her hands were long-fingered and strong from bring peaople their breakfast lunch and dinner every day and they encicled his wrist like fleshy handcuffs and pulled his hand toward her. He quckly realized that she did not, as he originally thought, want him to stop. She needed him to put his finger(s) inside of her. So, while not being to bright he was a gentleman when all was said and done, he slid histwo middle fingers deep inside of her wnd proceeded to tap her g-spot like it was a western union telegraph key. Every exhale was a moan or a near scream for her now. Ten taps later he found himself covered in hot water. His whole hand, his arm up to his elbow, his shirt, the front of his pants, his shoes...drenched.
Sara was a squirter. She was also done trembling and bucking. She now aapeared determined to crush the life's breath out of him with both her arms and legs. He thought his had was cramping. Wrong.
She had clamped around him like a vaccum seal. His fingers were buried deep with in her and it looked like he might not get them back. so he thought it prudent to stop moving them. not that he hade any choice in the matter. He wasn't doing anything until her vagina decided otherwise.
her breathing slowed. Her grip, at least hose of her legs and thighs loosened. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her forehead dampened his shirt. He didn't care.
"I'm a squirter. I ejaculate when i experience very intense orgasms."
"I hadn't noticed."
"Oh, good. Some men are put off by it."
"Idiots. Cretins. Philistines."
"We might want to head..."
"Upstairs? Since i just had a full-throated orgasm in your doorway..."
"And we may run the risk of drawing a crowd soon."
"Not sure how well i can walk. There's alot of stairs there Sport."
There were 18. He had counted them before he moved in and made just over 346 steps upon them during the course of moving in one saturday.
"Ill carry you." His manliness was reaching record levels.
"i'll be fine. Just give me a minute to rest. I don't want you to hurt yourself. i weigh a ton." Her sentences came out in semi-gasps.
He held her with one arm and closed the door while beginning his ascent.
"Or i could just carry you."
"Or you could just carry me."
(too tired...more tomorrow)