1. Story Time For Two


    Date: 8/24/2015, Categories: Seduction, Author: MidKnightMan, Rating: 1, Source: LushStories

    attention, my own hips giving encouragement to her feisty and feverish hands and fingers. My swollen cock glistened with such a slick coating of our combined juices, and her pussy and ass were all mine. It's all I kept thinking. I had to have her again. "Fuck me baby, ahhh ohhh fuck me, fuck meee baby,” was our mutual chorus at such times. I would stand her back up, clear the clutter from the dinning table, and lift her to it, bending her over the edge, slipping my fingers into her dripping cunt. My satin crimson crown would nudge again at her other opening. By now I had her softened and ripened, relaxed and eager for engagement, for my attention, for a mutual satisfaction through her bliss. I clutched at her soft hips, bent to start a trail of kisses along her spine again, as I caressed her inner thighs, and continued to nudge her aching swollen bud. I groaned in harmony with her moan and her soft mewing cries, ear candy for my ever escalating arousal. I slowly moved closer to take her deeper, exercising precise control to accommodate her most detailed desires, as she coaxed and invited. She whined and withered again, melted into me, sighing and releasing every possible lingering tension in her body. As my molten manliness impaled her relentlessly, she was completely giving in to her bliss. Gradually deeper and with an escalating tempo, I took her to where she needed to go. I remember for good reason one similar occasion. She was wetter than I can ever remember, as I ...
    continued to fuck her with my hand, invading her welling heat with busy expert fingers. My kisses sparked goosebumps where ever they departed, and little shivers coursed along her entire back and ass. It was an electrical persuasion between us, this conduit that solidified our melding with a focus like some erotic laser beam between the two of us. We pumped, we ground, we clutched and groaned, we swayed and bucked and cried for more of each other. We simply could never get enough of each others candy. There had never been anyone I'd met who harbored such a deep yearning pang to flesh out my closest held fantasies. Not only that, she would commit them to memory, and then fashion some future exploit to assure a carefully measured and pleasured outcome. Her desire to give herself completely rivaled my own. She'd expertly bring to fruition the ripening buds that would faithfully bear us our bliss, a mutually celebrated consummation of desire and lust. God was she good. She was an unrivaled monarch in that department. She made it ever harder to manage the two week separations. I ached for the ongoing fantasies we shared together, the way she coerced my hand to appreciate her profuse swelling, her senses begging for a conspired consoling. While enduring separation and in anticipation of what would transpire the next time we tangled, I found it difficult to avoid the temptations of self manipulation. I’d fall victim occasionally to at least a close consummation. I wanted to build to a near ...
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