You can call me a dreamer,
But when I think of Sakeena,
My thoughts should be cleaner,
As I reach for my wiener,
My heart in a fever,
And growing obscener,
Wishing I was between her
Thighs, getting deeper,
Like a huge paddle steamer,
Wanting only to please her,
And make her a screamer,
A laughing hyena,
Who’ll know nothing finer
Than when I kiss her
Hot, wet mouth.
I discovered something really creepy about myself today, something that really freaked me out. I can talk to the dead. I’ve probably always been able to do it, it’s just I’ve never tried before. It’s not just a select few I can talk to either, I can talk to anyone I want, anyone who’s ever lived. I talked to Einstein earlier, and Jimi Hendrix, and Karl Marx. I even jerked off, talking to Princess Diana and Charlotte Bronte at the same time. It’s an incredible ability, being able to talk to the dead, truly amazing. I just wish they would talk back.
we meet in secret, in a hotel room – you give me a peck on the cheek and tell me that as long as i do everything you say, we can meet again. if i hesitate, or fail in the slightest and you will leave and i will never see you again.
you have me undress and lay on the bed, already erect, as your eyes take in my cock, bouncing eagerly on my belly with anticipation – you step forward and blindfold me – i hear you moving and the sound of your clothes falling to the floor. i ask if you’re naked, and you tell me not to speak.
i feel you climbing onto the bed, and you tell me that i am not to touch you, that i am not to touch myself. i am not even allowed to move unless told to – you kneel over me, your legs straddling mine, looking down at me trembling with excitement, my member fit to burst.
you stroke my chest softly, with the tips of you fingers, feel my heart pounding rapidly, the way a wild beast might pound its cage in an effort to be free. you sweep your fingers down over my belly, stopping just short of my twitching shaft. you run both your hands down my sides and up over me, stopping even closer this time. you do this, again and again, getting nearer and nearer, until the lightest touch would have me overflow.
i can tell, by the way you are breathing more heavily and the light trembling of the bed, what you are doing to yourself. you remind me again, with the hint of a gasp in your voice, not to touch you and not to touch myself, knowing just how much i long to – through the mattress i feel your hips start to rock back and forth and hear your light, open-mouthed gasps reflect off the ceiling and know you have your head tilted back in ecstasy.
you lean forward, supporting yourself with your other hand on the headboard and plant the tiniest of kisses on my quivering lips. i can feel your hair brush against my skin and your breath, like sweet steam, on my cheek – your mouth hovers over mine as your orgasm erupts through you, spreading like molten, bubbling lava, to the very tips of your fingers and toes – your orgasmic moans are soft, breathy and almost whisper-like, but there is no mistaking the pleasure they portray, as you pant and pulsate over me, your body on fire with delight.
before you climb off me, you sweep a glistening fingertip over my lips, barely touching them but giving me a tantalising taste of heaven, as i lay there gasping with a mixture of unbearable frustration and momentous delight. you dress silently, still shaking with excitement, and exit the room without a sound, leaving me in the dark, glued to the spot with fear of losing you, my erection still raging like a hungry wolf.
it is only hours later when i hear an awkward cough that is not yours, that i dare take off the blindfold. only to see the ugly old, toothless maid, who has come to clean the room, standing at the end of the bed, mouth gaping and eyes bulging at the sight of my still stiff, still trembling body.
drown in my pain.
let it fill you up,
breathe it in,
shower in it.
let my pain
feast on it,
drip to it.
come to my screams,
get high on my begging,
explode every time
you say no,
you take more
bathe in my pain,
and fulfill you,
take it all.
fuck yourself deep
with my agony,
caress your clit
with my fear.
see me finished
i had to go to the doctor’s today – i hate it, the depression of the waiting room, the risk of catching a cold, all the posters reminding me of all the horrible diseases and afflictions, i could, and probably will end up getting. most of all, i hate the wait. i know they’re busy and the service is stretched, but to be surrounded by miserable looking fuckers, coughing and sneezing over me is just a shitty way to spend the best part of a morning – thank fuck i’ve got minecraft on my phone, at least.
eventually, i get to see my doctor. she is a hot young asian woman, and, thanks to the recent mild weather, is displaying a cleavage that i could happily spend six months in. this makes discussing personal matters rather awkward, and after several minutes watching her staring, uncomfortably, at her computer display, she turns to me and breaks the news. “i’m very sorry mr mew, but you are going to have to stop masturbating.” i’m flabbergasted.
“what?” i exclaim, “why?” my world collapsing around me, “forever?”
“no, not forever, mr mew,” she sighs, almost scowling, “just while i finish examining you.”
I think of you often.
I think of you,
Long and hard.
Thoughts rise up,
My imagination tingles
With electric visions.
My mind throbs
And then erupts,
And over my soul,
Hot and sticky
I can taste them.
i’ve got this pedometer app on my phone. its really cool and tells me how far i’ve walked. i guess it works by measuring the up/down motion of each step, i’ve never really given it much thought. until today.
as i was about to go out for a jog, i checked that the app was on. it drains the battery, so i often switch it off if i know i’m settled for the evening. it was on, and in fact it said that i’d walked 3,247 paces already today. now, this was impossible. i’d only been out of bed for 20 minutes and had walked no further than the loo and the kitchen. 3,247 paces is almost two miles.
i checked the times of this supposed jaunt, only to discover that it had happened before i’d even got out of bed. then, it hit me. when i’d woken up, after listening to the news, i’d checked my phone and read my mail. a sweet and sexy friend of mine had sent me some pictures of herself, and i had spent some considerable time ‘enjoying’ them. it would seem that my trusted app is not so accurate when it comes to measuring up/down motions as i thought it was.
now i’m left wondering how many 20 minute wanks have been logged as two-mile jogs. maybe that explains why i’m putting on weight.
you ride me. rising and falling with growing passion and vigour, feeling me drive deeper and harder into you, feeling your lust growing with every thrust
Stop it Kyle! I’ve got ppl here!
your pussy glows with a wet, hungry heat
I fucking mean it. Stop! I can’t touch myself right now!!!
but you will … your thighs tremble and your whole body tingles with delight as you reach down and tighten my collar by a single notch
you see the fear in my eyes and drink it in like strong liquor – your power magnifying your pleasure a hundred-fold – you stare deep into my soul and lap up the helplessness you find there, and you tighten the collar by another notch
I kinda hate you right now!
as my panic rises, you ram yourself harder and and faster onto me, my cock bulging like my eyes, your pussy so wet and hot, it burns. you know you shouldn’t, but you tighten my collar further still. your control over me, so thrilling that you cannot help but scream with such primitive and animal delight that it sets off several car alarms
I told you! I CAN’T touch myself right now!!!
but i know you are
the terror in my eyes is so intoxicating, it sends your mind to a whole new place. and as your orgasm crashes into you like a 100 mile an hour juggernaut into a brick wall, you know you will not let go until you are spent, no matter what.
I fucking hate you! Asshole!!!
did you come?
You know i fucking did!
so who really has the power?
I love you.
how i love your eyes,
and your tits,
and your thighs.
how i love your toes,
and your butt,
and your nose,
how i love your armpits
as i love your tits.
how i love your ass,
like a cow
loves the grass.
how i love your tits,
already said this.
i read your words,
i return to them.
i read your words
again and again.
they thrill me.
they scare me.
they excite me.
they arouse me.
your power, remote.
your control, total.
your word, final.
my cock, yours.
deny me pleasure,
cause me pain.
if you say
times a day,
if you say
for 15 years,
i read your words,
i return to them.
i read your words
again and again.
tie me up
and use me,
abuse me, please.
find my edge
and then find yours.
take us both beyond
what we know,
we ever should.
make we wait,
make me beg,
make me cry
make yourself wet
with my pain.
disgust me the most
me do them
do all these things,
if you will.
do more than
you thought you could,
but do it
just one thing;
i will do it to you.
i want to write
something dirty to you
make you come with my words
i really do
line by line
and letter by letter
every pulsating word
making you wetter
each dripping syllable
thrilling you more
touch yourself with my words
be my filthy word whore
i want to write poetry for you
i want to come in my own mouth and for you to watch
i want to cook for you
i want massage your feet
i want to hold your hand
and make you tea
i want to feel my cock between your breasts and
i want to make you laugh and bring you breakfast in bed
i want to hear you giggle
i want to kiss the back of your neck, every time i see it
i want to tell you every time i get a hard on
i want to take a big magic marker and write filthy words all over your body and then
i want to take ‘tasteful’ black and white photographs of you and masturbate over them
i want you to strap on a vibrating dildo and fuck me in the ass with it
i want to ram my cock down your throat until you gag
i want to make the slowest love ever to you that anyone has ever made
most of all
i want to make you come
come so fucking hard that you can’t help but bite me
come so hard you forget your own name
i want to fuck you into a coma
i have worked at the fitness centre for five years and know all the best places to hide and watch women changing or showering. i have never been caught before, but you are sharper than most and spot me in my hiding place and drag me out, in front of the other women in the changing room, to the accompaniment of much laughter and sneering.
most of you giggle at my naked form and twitching erection, a few of you look quite angry, although one or two have looks of genuine desire in your eyes. you ask me what i was doing and even though i can only stutter, you all know that i was jerking off, as i spied on you all changing. you demand that i continue, in front of you all, and this suggestion is met with a round of cheers and more laughter. i try to protest but you pick up a hockey stick and i can see by the steel in your eyes that you wouldn’t hesitate for a second to beat me with it. one or two of the girls, that were angered at my intrusion, pick up their sticks too, and i realise that i have no choice but to perform in front of you all.
i start to stroke my cock up and down. tentatively at first, closing my eyes against the giggles and jeers, but when i look about, i realise how beautiful the sight before me is. i am surrounded by women of all ages and shapes, in various states of undress, and i start to thrill to the whole idea. my eyes fill themselves and almost drown in ageing thighs and chubby arms, breasts, old and young alike define themselves through towels and underwear and i realise just how gloriously beautiful all women are, regardless of age or shape.
i hear one of you clap their hands together in delight as my cock squirts its first stream of cum and i shiver with delight to the sound of gasps and giggles, my knees trembling and cum dripping through my fingers and spraying into the air. afterwards you tell me that unless i want my boss to know about my sick little games, then i am to come back at the same time tomorrow, so that you can humiliate me further.
the three of us are naked. you kneel on the bed, staring wide-eyed at us, in the middle of our bedroom, as our cocks begin to thicken and lengthen and twitch their way to fully and eagerly erect. you have, in your hand, a leather riding crop. you are not intending on using it, providing that is, that we both do exactly what we’re told. you remind us of this and tingle with pleasure to see us both get a little stiffer with your words.
exactly as you tell us, we step towards each other and kiss. tentatively at first but with growing passion, as we arouse to the sound of your soft moans and giggles of pleasure. i see, from the corner of my eye, your hand slip down between your legs as i press myself against him and feel the hot, throb of his cock against mine. you beckon for me to drop to my knees, his large, proud cock, bouncing less than an inch from my face. i know what you want me to do, even before you ask me, and i run my tongue, slowly and leisurely all the way up his magnificent, pulsing length, caressing the tip by lapping my tongue in tantalising circles around it, tasting his sweet, sticky pre-cum and embracing it with my open mouth and lips.
you have never done anything like this before and your voice trembles with excitement as i take him deeper into my mouth, my hands grasping his powerful ass cheeks and sliding up and down his thighs and back and sides. you moan with delight, and your fingers slip deep inside yourself as he places his hand on my head and, bit by bit, coaxes more and more of his steel-like length further into my mouth with each thrust of his hips. you slide your wet fingers over your taut nipples as you watch him come deep in my throat, ready for what is to happen next, moaning deeply with delight as his cum dribbles from my lips.
you lay back on the bed with us either side of you, two mouths and four hands gliding over every inch of your lightly quivering body, our hot pricks pressed and pulsating hard into your yielding flesh, tasting your glorious pussy as we lick at and suck your erect nipples. our fingers devour your soaking, wet delight, taking it in turns to either rub at your clit or slide in and out of you. your back arches with animal desire, your eyes closed in ecstasy and your mouth gaping, red and panting. you almost weep with pleasure when you feel both our fingers inside you anda raging, rock-like prick in each hand.
you can barely speak, for animal desire, when you tell me to fuck you, and as i climb onto you, thrusting your thighs fiercely apart, he positions himself behind me. i rub my bursting tip up and down the length of your begging pussy and he rubs his hot, sticky cock up and down my crack. as i position myself to enter you, he does the same, and in one primal, movement, i enter you and he enters me. the three of us writhe, a sea of thrusting members and deep red depths, limbs and hands everywhere, and in a frenzy of mouths and sweat and dirty words, we all come together in long, hard thrusts and fingers buried deep into flesh, filling you and me with hot, spurting juices.
afterwards we lay in a naked puddle of cum and giggles and kisses and satisfied smiles and he asks if he can deliver pizza to us again sometime.
I was recently nominated for The Booker Award by the delightful Maureen, author at Magnolia Beginnings, and although I never accept blogger award nominations – my ego being already over-inflated – this one had me thinking about all the wonderful books I have read over the years.
Here is a list of my top, all-time five:
- Catch 22 by Joseph Heller
- The Dangerous and Painful Masturbation Magic Pop-Up Book by Paul Bollokov
- Gormenghast (trilogy) by Mervyn Peake
- The Mechanism of Mind by Edward de Bono
- Narziss and Goldmund by Hermann Hesse
- 101 Recipes for Kittens by B B Q Feline
- Fermat’a Last Theorem by Simon Singh
- Catcher in the Rye J D Salinger
- Mark Twain by Huckleberry Finn
- Trainspotting by Irvin Welsh
- How to lose Friends and Irritate people byDale Carnage
- The Fractal Geometry of Nature by Benoit B Mandelbrot
- The Yoga Guide to Self-Felation by Ike A N Bendova
- Watchmen by Alan Moore
- How to Count to Five by Arthur Unknown
I’ve not followed Maureen for long but her blog is a must-follow and full of sweet, smart, well written observations and musings, and her avatar picture makes for fantastic masturbation material. Thank you Maureen.
I said long ago, that I would no longer be accepting blogger awards, and it wasn’t because I thought that they were a pointless (but very imaginative and caring) form of chain letter, but because being nominated gives me such an almighty erection that, I would fear for my mortal safety, were I to be nominated more than once in quick succession. It is only thanks to the swift action, and early arrival, of my cleaning lady, Mrs Go’onanonanonagan (87 but with the tits of an 85 year old), that I was not later discovered drowned in a pool of my own semen, after having received three such awards within the space of a single afternoon.
As I lay here in my hospital bed, recovering from an ego overdose, I think it only fair that I respond to Rhonda from Help Me Rhonda (The Seven Things About Me Award), Maureen from Magnolia Beginnings (The Five Best Books Ever Award) and Mad Gay Man from Diary of a Mad Gay Man (Bitches Love Awards Award), for their flattering and honouring nominations.
As per my doctor’s orders, I will respond to each nomination with a post of its own and start with Rhonda’a ‘Seven Things About Me Award’.
The rules of this award require me to first thank the nominee, then to reveal seven embarrassing facts about myself and finally to nominate 463 other bloggers.
Thank you Rhonda:
Rhonda’s blog, Help Me Rhonda, is a witty, sweet and charming, daily dose of life-affirming wisdom and side-splitting humour, beautifully taken photographs and cleverly observed anecdotes. If you have not yet discovered her, then do so now, or I will have you cruelly murdered.
- I could read by the age of three. I kinda taught myself but was encouraged and helped by my family, who seemed to think I was possibly some kind of prodigy. Sadly it was my only trick, I simply had to learn “how to do words”, and after that I was, academically, something of a disappointment.
- I know 30 different ways to kiss – 31, if you include ‘on the mouth.’
- I think its wrong to use poetry or art to get into a woman’s head. It’s much better to use them to get into a woman’s pants.
- I once was a cartoonist, for a chain of pot-selling coffee shops in the Netherlands. I used to get paid in pot and only got the job because the previous incumbent had been tied to his push-bike, by the Dutch Mafia , and thrown into a canal. A very Dutch way to die, their bikes are very heavy.
- I had a girlfriend who ran off with my best friend, and I still miss him.
- I have a notepad and pen in every room in the house. It’s because I never know when I will have an idea. I even have a notepad in the lavatory. Once, after taking a large amount of magic mushrooms, I discovered the secret to life there and, obviously, wrote it down. The following morning, upon realising that I had run out of toilet paper, I had to use it to wipe my arse. Well? What would you have done?
- I have no idea what the pre-wash function on my washing machine is for.
Normally I claim to be unable to nominate anyone because I never bother reading any of the shite you all write. This is not actually true. I do, I avidly, read every word of all your blogs. The reason I can’t nominate anyone is because I am simply too lazy and way too busy masturbating over your gravatar images.
The entire city of London, it would seem, has become obsessed by the Olympics. Now, while I’m delighted by team GB’s successes, I gotta admit that I have been more absorbed by an alternative sporting event, the Cunnilympics, which is held every four years in the Twat and Merkin pub, down the Old Bent Road. Like the original Ancient Greek version, Cunnilympic events are performed naked, although, unlike the originals, they consist mostly of contestants performing athletic, and sometimes dangerous, sexual acts. There are parallel bar events and ring events and several kinds of marathon. There are sprints and shooting and a very interesting variation on weight lifting, and this year synchronised masturbation was included in this venerable (venereal surely: ED) sporting line up. The Cunnilympic version of the pole vault is probably the most dangerous event and, after table tennis, was always my favourite, until this year that is, when I was able to get tickets to the men’s relay final and the heavyweight cock wrestling.
Four teams of strapping, naked and erect young men, from America, Russia, Great Britain and China, stand in the centre of the arena, in front of an audience of mostly women and gay men and wait for the starting gun, all of them stiff and twitching in anticipation. The idea of the competition is for each athlete to grasp their neighbour’s ‘baton’ and bring them to orgasm, at which point the neighbour grabs his neighbour’s cock and so on until all four contestants have come, the first team to have all their athletes blow their loads, being declared the winners.
The instant the starting pistol fires, four powerful hands grasp four pulsing pricks and start furiously pumping them up and down. The Chinese get off to a flying start with How Hee Cum squirting a thick streak of jiz over the back of the Russian reigning champion, Boris Jerkov in just under 20 seconds. Next to come is the American Mark Spurtz, who, despite his nine inch member has been training hard for up to eight hours a day, and as he comes into his partners face he shouts “God bless America!” and turns expertly to grab Joe Spunks twitching prick. The British are in a close third place and catching up fast as Bradley Cummings lighting fast fist coaxes several hot, thick squirts of cum from Robin Bellend’s tiny but potent shaft. Then disaster strikes as Paul Bollokov slips in a puddle of Karl Kumova’s semen and drops his baton, earning the Russians instant disqualification. After one minute forty-eight seconds the Americans and Chinese are neck, and neck and Cum So Fa and Dick Seaman start to shoot their goo together. Its going to take a careful examination of the slo-motion replay to decide this one, and as they both grunt and jerk their way to conclusion and glory, the crowd cheer “Come on Britian!” and they do.
Still sticky with sweat and each other’s juces, the team captains mount the podium, erect with pride, as the queen herself hangs their medals on their throbbing members. The crowd go wild and get ready for the heavyweight cock wrestling, where two amazingly well endowed athletes will clash cocks until one of them becomes flaccid.
thank you audrina of audrina1759’s blog and Maarit-Johanna of history of the ancient world for nominating me for some award or other. normally i don’t do the award thing but i’m so flattered to be nominated by these women, as their blogs are just wonderful, that i will make an exception.
the rules are as follows:
- tell seven things about yourself
- nominate 487 other bloggers
- that’s it, i think
seven things about me:
- i haven’t had sex since february
- i haven’t had coffee since 9:30
- i fantasise about posting pictures of my dick on this blog but have never had the guts
- i know how to measure the speed of light with a microwave and some proccessed cheese
- i am going to masturbate to the gravatar pictures of anyone who likes or comments on this post – you have been warned
- minds turn me on more than bodies
- i sneezed so hard this morning that my glasses flew off and landed in the toilet bowl
- an ex once super-glued my hand to my cock in my sleep
- i have only recently learned that women get sexier and more beautiful as they get older
- i can’t count to seven
- three of these things are not true (but this might be one of them)
i’m afraid i can’t nominate anyone as i never actually read any of the shite you guys write.
from now on i will only be accepting nominations for awards if they come accompanied by pictures of the nominee’s bare breasts or cum drenched pricks – ideally both.
you are hard at work, in the kitchen, doing something on the chopping board. i don’t care what it is, i’m feeling horny and come up behind you and hold you, my hands cupping your breasts, my stiffie pressing into your back. “not now!” you tell me sharply, “i’m busy!” i don’t give a fuck, and i push my right hand down between your legs.
“c’mon love,” i implore, “just a quickie?” you spin round and glare at me. i ignore you and pull at your skirt, wanting to feel between your legs. you brush my hand away roughly and tell me to
“fucking grow up!” i slip my hand up inside your tee, grabbing a breast and ask, in my sweetest voice, for “a quick hand-job?” this seems to excite you and you smile and i feel your nipples stiffen and i grin back at you. if i had paid more attention, i would have seen that what you were chopping was half a dozen or so hot red chilli peppers, the burning juices of which now coat your fingers.
“you want me to wank you off?” you ask cheekily, and i nod like a demented puppy and grin. “what, right this minute?” you check. a question that is met by more enthusiastic nodding. you look down and i obediently drop my pants. i love the way you smile as you grab hold of my twitching prick and start to stroke generously up and down its whole length. you trace delicate little circles around and all over the head with the tips of the fingers of your other hand, which feels fantastic, and even more tingly than usual. you fondle my balls and even push the tip of your pinkie into my butt, you know how i like that. the mischievous look in your eyes makes it so much better.
then the heat hits me and i gasp in pain and you giggle. you answer the desperate questioning in my eyes by glancing over your shoulder at the pile of red chilli peppers on the chopping board. my eyes follow yours, widening in realisation as they do. i try to pull away but you keep hold of me for a second or two and kiss me. then you let go and i hop from one foot to the other, letting out little agonised whimpers, unsure what to do, pain scorching me from the tip of my dick to my ass. you laugh so hard that you can barely cross the kitchen to the freezer and find me a bag of frozen peas.
you are still laughing as you wash your hands and go back to preparing the meal.
12 hours ago
10 hours ago
you stand before us and watch us both strip, enjoying how we are both fully erect by the time we are naked. then you have us strip you, slowly, tantalisingly, kissing and stroking each inch of flesh as it is exposed. stepping out of your panties, you watch our eyes drink in your beauty and lie back on our big bed.
before we get down to some serious action, you tell us, you want us to put on a little show for you. we are both straight but are happy to do anything to turn you on and we kiss, hungrily, our cocks brushing up against each other, pressing into each other. he is much bigger than i am, and i am quite jealous, especially at the greedy way you stare at it. we grab each others shafts and stroke them slowly but fully. my fingers can barley reach round his magnificent prick and i can feel the blood pumping through it in powerful pulsations, his veins like steel wires. you start to touch yourself when i drop to my knees and take his broad, hard cock deep into my mouth. he grabs my head and forces himself into me hard, and i can hear your moans of pleasure as he fucks my face. he pulls out as he starts to come and i can hear you coming too, as he squirts what feels like gallons of hot creamy cum all over my face and into my open, awaiting mouth.
you reach under the bed and pull out the nine tailed flogger. you’d told me last night that you were going to hand it to me but with a wink you pass it to him and he starts to lash at me with it. you squeal with delight and giggle as he covers my body with a rain of stinging blows. he does not care for me like you do and hits me with force, and i jump and squirm with each blow and cover my cock with my hands. i expect you to tell him to ease up a bit, but you don’t, you tell him to hit me harder and for me to put my hands above my head and to stand still. i do, and he brings the flogger down on my twitching prick making it bounce and sway violently.
he is almost instantly stiff again and you tell me to get on all fours. you lie on the bed, bringing your grinning face close to mine, studying my eyes as he enters me. you reach down between your legs as he fulfils himself, fiercely and relentlessly, shaking my whole body and drawing a gasp from my lungs with each powerful thrust. you kiss me as he comes in long hard waves, deep inside me. you whisper that you love me.
the two of you tie me, still shaking, spread eagled, to the bed and you kneel over my face, your juices dripping into my mouth as you lower yourself onto me. i lick at your glowing, drenched pussy, intoxicated by your taste, your thighs squeezing my head and your hips rocking in time with your pleasure as i feel my cock being slid wetly into his mouth. you have the flogger now, and i can feel you swiping at him as my aching cock slips in and out of his mouth. with each blow he yelps and bites at my erection and digs his fingers into my balls. i scream, vibrating your glowing, dribbling cunt which is now quivering and throbbing with delight. you lower yourself further onto me preventing me from breathing and you feel my fear growing and my lungs bursting as i feel your orgasm rise, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as they grip my head. you can sense my panic as you come, and as i pass out, i feel my cum hit the back of his throat.
when i come to, you are kneeling over me, your ass close to my face and he is kneeling in front of you. you have his cock in your hand and you are both kissing. i can make out his fingers between your legs, lapping at your soft wet pussy and driving hard and wildly into you. i can see what you were doing while i was out because his cum is dripping from your butt. i know what you want me to do.
so, i’m trying to think of ways of getting her into some kinky stuff and ask her if she can think of anything we could do to spice up our sex life a little. she says that she’d like to have sex in every room in the house. now, i was hoping for whips and chains and stuff or at least handcuffs, but its a good start and if she wants to have sex in every room in the house, that’s fine with me. turns out that what she means is that she wants to have sex with all the other guys i live with.