Friday, July 18, 2008

Thursday Night Trash: I Can Still Smell You


I'm telling you... I could hear the moisture clapping between her pussy lips as she walked across the wooden floor. She's barefoot and the evening gown flows with the force of air parting her thighs. She glides like a ballerina atop a music box and rest firmly in my arms. We breathe together. Our bodies melt into a closeness always just short of where we want to be. We press into one.
The lights are out and a full moon cast our shadow on the eastern wall. We are drawn to the window where a shimmering lake waits for our arrival. We never did. Instead we remained as one tangled web of passion. Leaning against the window and she into me, we kissed every bit of exposed flesh.

My hands held her breast as I lowered myself to get closer; closer to waking up another sense, by exploring her essence. She sighed as my lips jumped around from thigh to thigh. She then released the gown from the top, signalling that the teasing was over.
The delight of a warm, wet pussy could never be overstated.
By now the moon was climbing higher in the sky and the light around our shadow was going dim. She cried out when I licked her; "oh shit... eat it!"


Next: back to the workplace with "Who said Three's a Crowd?"

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

thanks for making me wet!!!