Sir fresh brand new.

I need you to complete me. I am nothing without you. 

I need you to fill me and hurt me, and sometimes you do.

Sometime you do. 

Sometimes I need you more than anything.

Sometimes i just need anything.

Sometimes i just need you.

Gavin.... breath, doubt and trouble.

Your eyes are deep and blue. You say that they're full of expression. All I see is calm, with shark bites of emotion. Someone, somebody made. Sometimes you're so kind to me… but it really doesn't matter. 

Time spills out like sand, I block and pull around in my brain. Balance and equilibrium. I am alone on this island.  I am alone and you are here. 

So shake, smack, hold me down. Use my body and make me forget what day it is. The room is hot and seeping. The walls pulse and ooze. Throb like a heart beat. 

Its so warm in here. Its so warm. You force your cock down my throat. Deep and uncaring. Im wet in sweat and spit and I'm boiling hot and smothered.

I want you to take everything away. Breath, doubt and trouble. Take it all away and make me beautiful. Make me empty and alive. For some fleeting moment, make yourself everything to me. Make all my choices, carve out my fear. 

Desire beats through my body like a drum and I'm sore and punched up, and bruised and fucked up, but I don't think you'd enjoy me, if I was any other way. 

Over stretched, over used, needy desperate whore. Hedonistic harlot with those little perfect lips and such a cruel tongue. A pretty face to spit on and a mass of flesh to hurt and hold and damage. 

You make me feel like I don't have to be anyone else. You don't make me feel anything. You just make me want to fuck and touch and do what you want. You make me cry. A touch too much? I make me cry. I love to cry. You love it when I cry. 

You eat me and stroke me and screw me up and make me come. I do as you tell me. A honied trap. A sweet unreachable game.  

Endless crashing pleasure, peppered in pain and anticipation. The taste of salt on your neck, when I run my tongue against it. 

I don't want this to die. 

You hold my throat until I start to black out. You hold my throat. 

Before and after

There is always a before an after. Stories and suggestions. Dinner and wine and anticipation. Wash my hair and lets go for ice-cream. Hold my hand on the train. I run my fingers up your thigh. 

I don't play this part so well. 

Peaches

I lie on the crisp bed sheets. 

The sun shining softly against my white face. 

He buries his head between my thighs. 

Soft, wet, pleasure. Pink flesh.

I can taste sweet fresh peaches in my mouth. 

This is pretty much as good as it gets. 

Steve the Fitter

Those wet blue eyes, full of something. It looks like desire, be it could easily not be.  The warmth of your mouth as it heats my cunt and your flat, wet tongue laps at that soft skin. Exquisite oozing pleasure drips down my thighs and onto your sheets.

You yank off your jeans, I slide you between my lips and your cock is perfect, thick and big and easy to choke on. I make you come with my
mouth and you make me come with your fingers. Mewling, howling, moaning pleasure, like some great big animal. Some wild sound and then that fuck. How good it felt. How tight and overdue. My cunt clenched and stretched around that perfect big cock of yours.

No feeling. Just sensation. Nothing but pure aching, rough pleasure. I come and come again. So do you. This situation softens, heady and drunk on release. Quiet and glazed and breathing. Quiet and kind and warm. Soft and sweet. You take me home.