erotica, Uncategorized

Galàpagos I

Partners seem to float by. It’s become based on reputation, though some last longer than others. I think, against all odds, it may be that I have developed a coldness. It can probably be felt in my hands, or, more likely, my kiss. It’s begun to attract those colder than myself. While I sleep better with somebody next to me, these fox have their own holes.
A friend of a friend, this time. He told me he was curious to hear about the things I do to them first hand. Hunter. She was younger, beautiful, and had her own curiosities. Only a few inches shorter than myself, when I had her naked there was often more leg then I knew what to do with. A small waist matched her small tits, which she liked squeezed, hard. Auburn hair, like henna. Shy, quelled whore (many are). An unreasonably gorgeous peach, practically hairless. We went for a walk or two, looking at old trees. She liked me.
At first, I used my hands and voice to tempt her. I made her tell me what she needed, half the time taking what I wanted, reminding her that we’re both animals, and half the time giving her exactly hers. She came easily, my fingertips could feel her pulsing while her torso pulled and pressed. I especially liked to hold her hips down- when she was coming close, she fought hard and vocally for the pressure where she needed it.
I finally fucked her after a few nights of teasing. At that point I hadn’t yet allowed her get her hands on my bare cock. She knew its size, and had wrapped her hands around its censored weight, but keeping her away and filling her with throbbing favours had her palms itching and her mouth hungry for it. I asked her to wear a skirt that night. She obliged, and showed up wearing a tan blouse speckled with hummingbirds, low heels, a denim jacket.
We had sat and joked. I showed her a vintage centrefold a friend had bought me, and the appeal of its subject lead to talk of threesomes. It would be hot to 69 I think, like to show off. Plus, If anybody would know how to eat pussy it would be a girl, she said, her youth showing in her shallow taunts. I ignored her jab, and smiled at the visible spark in her eye when I licked the coffee from my top lip. She was interested not just in touching other girls, she said , but also in sharing a man. She thought the lade jealousy would give her charge. She admitted to loving attention and praise in the wild of the world- It’s so cute and intriguing, the juxtaposition to their private preferences. She said tonight she wanted to be spanked red, she wanted to be held down to the sheets and used.
While she spoke of her own desires, mine had been echoing in my skull for days now, and I felt my hand climbing the leg she had thrown across my own. The smallest details can make my cock swell- the suspender strap, perfumes, messy sheets, manicures, particular freckles, the cool stream of rushed breath around my shaft when they come up for air. This time it was the feeling of her skirt on my wrist, as my hand slipped passed her thigh and cupped her ass. She leant in and began kissing me. I let my hands discover the bows on her black panties, her hip bones, the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her jacket fell, and I pulled her shirt over her head, smiling inside my own at the awkward pause between kissing when my eyes guzzle the wine of her curves and bends. She had round, polish nipples- the puffy kind that stiffen all the well with the right whisper as they do with a bite. I held her wrists behind her back with one of my hands, and gave them a hard squeeze. Her voice and nipples reacted pleasingly. Sometimes they just want sex, and sometimes they want to be fucked like sluts. This time she had climbed on top of me, and I could feel her wetness where my exposed stomach met with her groin. With that, I couldn’t wait any longer. I gave her ass a firm slap and asked her to follow me.

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