Posted on

never too much…

(an inexhaustible list)

Your name, slipping like warm honey from my lips.
Your facial hair rubbing against my smooth thighs.
Bending over for you.
Your hot, warm mouth on me.
Reaching for you.
My legs spreading for you.
Lifting my hips, my ass, my whatever-you-want for you.
Our moans.
Eating me out.
Our eyes meeting in deepest heat.
Sucking you off.
The grip of my cunt walls before I cum for you.
Your pleasure.
Your fingers.
My please and thank yous.
Your beautiful, bobbing, throbbing thick for me.
My fuck-juice slick on my swollen lips.
The give and take of our pleasure.
My wet
All my fuck-wet for you.

All of it.

Posted on

oh, my juice…

I masturbate.
I think of you.
I cum.

oh my juice… because there is this: your lips, your tongue, your fingers, your anything you want… tracing over these dips and waves of me. You trace me, leaving a trail. And I watch you. I fucking want you. My hands hold you – slip along your nape – and my fingers slide through your hair as you pass over me again. And again. My fingers grip your dewy tip, I cup the throat of your cock, choking it, gripping your heat; your shaft warms me. I know because I feel your heat mix with mine – slick, between my thighs and folds of my sweet cunt – it slides between my ass cheeks. I am like this for you. We will fuck soon. I want you to fill me as much as you want, as deep as you can, as hard and hungry as we must. I tug and spin my clever fingers around the head of your throbbing need and down, down, to your rock-hard base. Your balls fit perfectly in my hands. You are so beautiful.
I kiss you and bite your lip – my tongue, a foreshadow of what is to cum.
You moan and grow even more in my hands.
Oh, my juice… I am so wet. So fucking wet.