69

His body is on top of mine, his head is buried in my cunt and Im rubbing my flesh into his face. His cock is sitting hard in my throat and I'm gagging and sucking and spluttering up my own spit, which is starting to run down my cheeks and neck. I moan as I please him and he me.

Gone Swinging

I kiss and lick the brown swollen nipples that centre point her breasts. I run my finger through her silk soft hair, dark and smooth like rope, it smells divine.

Her husband is behind me, driving his solid, rubbered mass into my cunt. I bend my elbow, place my hand at the back of his neck and tell him to "Let go". I want him to fuck me as I kiss and lick his wife and tell her how beautiful she is. Which I have done, which I'm still doing. I repeat it to her husband. "She is so beautiful. Her hair, her face. I love the taste of her skin". Husband buckles at the hip.

I look at him, we catch each others eyes, the sea and the grass, green and pale blue. His mouth is muzzled in her cunt and we stare at each other as he pleasures her and I kiss her chest. He touches my cheek and gives me a small tap, enough to remember who I am pleasing, who I want to please. He talks to her and I feel a twinge of jealousy but block it out. I think "Don't speak to her how you speak to me", but rationalise in a drunk, yet sober enough mind, that I do it myself. It is not distinctly us, just distinctly passion filled.

I do like the fun we have. With each other, with other people. I lay on my back I get eaten. I get bored. I get up and drift off.

Happiness

There is energy between us

We are violent together, a swirling tranquil disease. We riddle each others blood in poisonous bouts of infection. When we fuck we stare hard into each others eyes. I sink my teeth into his flesh. He drives his fingers inside me.

I write this now ragged and sore plagued with swollen tenderness. The seam of my jeans pushing tightly into my bruised and engorged groin. I have been used. I feel over used. I am perfect and unfortunately in love.

I cannot resist him. His lips stroke my tongue when we kiss. He knocks my legs apart and fucks me bent over furniture and fixtures or just plain bent over. I sit on his lap and we rock effortlessly. There are waves of crashing pleasure. There is doting compliance. There is skill and passion and favour.

I am his. He owns me. My body is his, he has that too. He grooms me and makes me perfection for his tastes. I am perfect, now. I feel it.