Humping Sexy Babe Sunitha
- 1 year ago
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Morning Sun free porn video
Once inside the room it was almost impossible to see. His eyesight wasn’t perfect but it was the light level concealing the occupants of the room not at all aided by the fog of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. Central to his current malaise was an overwhelming urge to sit down. Most of these seats taken by other patrons with the exception of the sofa giving itself to him at that moment as somebody rose. So he made a line for it, lowering himself into the soft leather trying as much as he could not to look exhausted. But indeed he was.
Whilst he considered the idea that he was the only person in the fashionable club that didn’t actually want to be there. He would much rather have been at home reading or distilling his own narrative. Because to be quiet honest, being tortured to death by a European warlord or swimming in a lake of boiling acid would have been kinder to his back, legs, stomach and throat then spending one more second here. It wasn’t by his own volition either but a friend who had asked, no, begged him to come.
'Please.’ He had said. ‘Look, I’ll buy your drinks all night. I just need you to distract the friend. She promised to come but only if we double date.’
It was a ridiculous interlude to his evening being a distraction so the other guy could get his leg over. And in the end, the friend had failed to show and the happy couple had vanished into the night leaving him drinkless after two hours of talking to her and ignoring him. He processed the information in his mind. Then his phone vibrated the lining of his jacket.
Sorry mate. I’ll make it up to you.
Great. Okay, well maybe I just take off for the night bus. Except it only goes three quarters of the way. Then a walk. Then a fumbling for a key. Then a quick brew. Then bed.
He had made his decision. As the music changed from one tone upward it jabbed at his ears and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was confronted by the single most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And in the split second it took his tired brain to register the vision the music changed again and he closed his eyes instinctively. But, luckily was able to seer the image into his consciousness in the form of a script. She entered the room. Looked left. Brunette. Dark eyes. Smiling. Lipstick. Red dress. Short maybe 146 to 148, thin, no, athletic. She turned her head to the right. Ear rings. Moved her hand, no rings. Bracelet. Clutch bag. Nails painted. Carrying a drink. Wine. Turned again. Then he became furious with himself because when he finally managed to force his eyes open she was gone. Oh for fuck sake. Really?
He was compelled to do something. Like him being there, the next thirty or so seconds were compulsory because he understood taking every chance you got. No matter how remote. So he launched himself up from the sofa towards the door carrying the image of her in his head. And let’s not do the same boring questions about who or why. Let’s not mistake chance in this club for some yawing romantic movie. All information would be received with the knowledge that even if she was seeming unattainable as he suspected she was, then he would go down with the ship until he had a definite absolute no. Like a judge smashing a gavel. Or a guillotine. But if it came, he would smile back. Just as he always did. Bow out.
Leaving the small room he re-entered the main dancing area of the fashionable club with the hoard of pretty young drones bouncing on their heels like so many meerkats. He scanned the room. He could see sixty red dresses of various hues. Maybe seventy. About twenty of those were brunettes. Something like fifteen were not dancing. Of those about eleven or twelve had drinks. Thinking. Processing. Scanning. Okay, five of the remainder are wearing bracelets. Then his heart stopped. Or was it time. He located the woman standing by a post. Hovering. His first approximation of her beauty had been correct.
Now he gets to either enjoy her for a second and walk away, or roll the dice and take his chances. Envisaging all the possible outcomes he begun his slow decline into insanity and his feet falling into line finally he would make the long journey from the alcove to her position, trying to desperately come up with the one line that would ensure her attention long enough to convince her he wasn’t a moron.
He was in fact, the urbanist. The precariat. Living life in the spaces between dishonest capitalism and the bread line. The afterthought of nation among bright silk shirted elegance and the plate glass excluding him from those fortunate enough not to descend. But this had given him quick wittedness in spades. So his mind searched for the words in total. Formulating at the surface in a coherent if a little melancholy first endeavour. While the music pulsed the crowd into a frenzy he digested the optics fully until at last he made it to within a few metres of her. Close enough to make it obvious it was her he was approaching if she had turned to notice. Then it happened.
Not some capture of the elusive urbane modern dating language. In fact nothing at all. He wondered for a second it he had gone blind and deaf. No it wasn’t a medical issue. There had been a sudden and disconcerting interruption of electrical power, and the more well lit dance floor was plunged into darkness along with half the city. A power cut.
Bollocks.
Heads would roll at the power station as a result of the ad hoc rise in crime you get during power outages. With no surveillance people engage the nefarious sections of the brain culminating in the question, what can I get away with? Although the phenomenon isn’t universal.
His first concern was his immediate safety. Unable to see in the few seconds of pitch dark he ran one hand down to cover his wallet housed in his back pocket. Forget the credit card, it’s the photos that were important. His other hand he moved to the top of his head. Because of darkness lasted there would be touching and that would negate the following accusations.
When the emergency lights kicked on after about five seconds he glanced around. There were a few slaps at first. Spots of repercussion. A shout from one end of the floor. A scream from near the bar as people realised is was not in fact their partner who had caressed them. There was pushing in places as separate fights broke out like a rash among the patrons. This was escalating and he needed to move.
He saw her again. Standing smartly with her back to the post holding her drink at waist level. Eyes fixed on the man standing directly in front of her. But he was facing away, this other guy. As the conflict erupted around her she remain perfectly still. Breathing. Smiling. Concentrating on something. He edged toward her through the melee having to duck as a pint glass travelled forcefully past him narrowly missing his head. He was pushed forward by a falling body, managing to keep steady, stay upright. But the second time the body came from the side and he was thrown forlornly on the deck sk**ding in an obscure manner, ending in a starfish like repose. He turned himself over to see a giant above him wielding a thin necked bottle, laughing, raising it above his head. There was going to be a defence, he was sure. A new redness boiled within him. But to his surprise his survival came in the form a wine glass struck at a certain point on the side of the giants massive unmissable head. It was her. She had seen the fall. Watched the coming assault and had acted.
Power was restored. The music jarred back to life and the floor was re-illuminated, multiple colours flashing and changing. He ascended from the floor. He watched her lips move but the music was so loud it took the words from her and replaced them with those of the singer.
I used to think that the day would never come, I’d see delight in the shade of the morning sun...
It was pointless even asking what she was trying to say. But she was saying something. Oh god she was beautiful. He struggled to retain his ability to think. But regained his composure. Then as if an icy hand was plunged into his soul and his being was stirred by some type of non-terrestrial element he managed a second later to raise both his hands and smile. A kind of charming schoolboy shrug.
My morning sun is the d**g that brings me near, to the c***dhood I lost replaced by fear...
She smiled right back at him. It was a wide and precious experience. Deliciously red and welcoming. Now she was saying something else. Again too loud to understand. But the battle raging around, almost lost to them, encased as they now where in a psychological bubble. He blocked out the sound and cannon of the crowd and concentrated only on her. And by the looks of it, she on him. There were centimetres between them now as they edged closer. The willow of mist from smokers or an ice machine. The theatrical pulse made them both curious. Destiny though, if that’s what they call it has a funny way of giving a sign that the present course unrelenting in its inevitability is the right one. Because in the further few seconds it took for them to exchange glances, shrugs and a hand signal from her there was a lurch from behind her. Another body cajoling, sidestepping in an awkward way then fully pushing her forward uncontrollably. He raised his hands involuntarily to arrest her advance and in a soundless, breathless, wordless fraction of a second she was in his arms.
I used to think that the day would never come, that my life would depend on the morning sun...
He turned her instinctively away from the crowd toward her leaning post and a shout, the sound of smashing glass unexpectedly loud made her tense up. This pulled her even closer into him. It took another moment for her to release her grip slightly and look up into his eyes. And smile again. He shuttled a hand between their faces and pointed towards an exit sign. She turned her head to look. Then glanced back and nodded. Smiled. Now if they could only make it through the crowd.
He considered pulling the fire alarm but decided against it on the basis it might cause a stampede. No they were going to have to become Olympians in an obstacle strewn race where the only prize would be a rush of cold air and a quieter noise level. So he ran his hand down her arm and took hers raising it a bit, catching her eye. She nodded again and he could see her shoulders rise as she took a breath. They bolted.
First they went left around an angry group of blue shirted office workers. Skirting the crowd all facing away from them to the centre of the dancefloor. Two man appeared in front of them one in civilian clothes and one dressed all in black grappling with each other. Another object unidentified rushed passed them moving left to right and they both dived under a rope partition emerging on the other side uns**thed. As they rounded two hair pulling young ladies a fire extinguisher bounced on the floor next to them dangerously close to her left foot. She jerked it back, raising her hands, still clutching his, pivoted her body. They rushed forward again a few steps. A line of bouncers poured from a stairwell nearly knocking them to one side. Then he saw the exit before him. Double red doors with a metal bar blocking them, a green sign. Fire exit. He pushed the bar. No joy. No movement. Were they locked? Bloody shouldn’t be. Still holding her hand he took a pace back and with as much strength as he could muster, raised a size nine boot and popped the doors open in a single strike. They were free.
In a side street, the volume now returned to an acceptable level he heard her voice for the first time. He was about to lead her off in a random direction, but she tugged him. Wide eyed and nearly laughing she said loudly, 'this way!’ and took charge of their flight. They traversed the street and stood to one side as four luminous police persons charged past them towards the club holding radios and batons. In a further ten seconds of brisk running they were both around another corner watching the clubbers pour out onto the street amid an array of blue lights and an army of emergency service personnel. The crossed another road heading away. He glanced back, just once. Then turned to observe her finally as the atmosphere died around them into a dull background hum. A flashback of that first sight in his mind not a distance memory, only about five minutes had passed. But it felt like he had known her a lifetime.
‘Thank you.’ He said. Paused. Breathed. ‘It was incredible. That guy was about to have me. I owe you one.’
'No problem.’ She replied. 'I thought it was you when I was in the lounge but I wasn’t sure.’
He was momentarily confused. Then his brain clocked on for work.
'Wait, you...’
‘Yes.’ She begun. ‘I was shown your picture by my friend. I’m sorry I’m so late. It is you isn’t it? Your Matty's friend.’
He smiled again and was about to face palm. Decided on a considered hand on his chin. This was the girl he was supposed to meet tonight.
‘I’m the guy. Matty’s mate. Yeah that’s me.’ Very cool indeed my son well done. Plonker. ‘My name is Fergal.’
Her face lit up. ‘I knew it. I should have come to you in the lounge but I’m afraid I lost my nerve. I was plucking up the courage when..’
‘The lights went out.’
‘Yeah.’ She paused again. Smiled delightfully. ‘My name is Penny.’
Whilst he considered the idea that he was the only person in the fashionable club that didn’t actually want to be there. He would much rather have been at home reading or distilling his own narrative. Because to be quiet honest, being tortured to death by a European warlord or swimming in a lake of boiling acid would have been kinder to his back, legs, stomach and throat then spending one more second here. It wasn’t by his own volition either but a friend who had asked, no, begged him to come.
'Please.’ He had said. ‘Look, I’ll buy your drinks all night. I just need you to distract the friend. She promised to come but only if we double date.’
It was a ridiculous interlude to his evening being a distraction so the other guy could get his leg over. And in the end, the friend had failed to show and the happy couple had vanished into the night leaving him drinkless after two hours of talking to her and ignoring him. He processed the information in his mind. Then his phone vibrated the lining of his jacket.
Sorry mate. I’ll make it up to you.
Great. Okay, well maybe I just take off for the night bus. Except it only goes three quarters of the way. Then a walk. Then a fumbling for a key. Then a quick brew. Then bed.
He had made his decision. As the music changed from one tone upward it jabbed at his ears and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was confronted by the single most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And in the split second it took his tired brain to register the vision the music changed again and he closed his eyes instinctively. But, luckily was able to seer the image into his consciousness in the form of a script. She entered the room. Looked left. Brunette. Dark eyes. Smiling. Lipstick. Red dress. Short maybe 146 to 148, thin, no, athletic. She turned her head to the right. Ear rings. Moved her hand, no rings. Bracelet. Clutch bag. Nails painted. Carrying a drink. Wine. Turned again. Then he became furious with himself because when he finally managed to force his eyes open she was gone. Oh for fuck sake. Really?
He was compelled to do something. Like him being there, the next thirty or so seconds were compulsory because he understood taking every chance you got. No matter how remote. So he launched himself up from the sofa towards the door carrying the image of her in his head. And let’s not do the same boring questions about who or why. Let’s not mistake chance in this club for some yawing romantic movie. All information would be received with the knowledge that even if she was seeming unattainable as he suspected she was, then he would go down with the ship until he had a definite absolute no. Like a judge smashing a gavel. Or a guillotine. But if it came, he would smile back. Just as he always did. Bow out.
Leaving the small room he re-entered the main dancing area of the fashionable club with the hoard of pretty young drones bouncing on their heels like so many meerkats. He scanned the room. He could see sixty red dresses of various hues. Maybe seventy. About twenty of those were brunettes. Something like fifteen were not dancing. Of those about eleven or twelve had drinks. Thinking. Processing. Scanning. Okay, five of the remainder are wearing bracelets. Then his heart stopped. Or was it time. He located the woman standing by a post. Hovering. His first approximation of her beauty had been correct.
Now he gets to either enjoy her for a second and walk away, or roll the dice and take his chances. Envisaging all the possible outcomes he begun his slow decline into insanity and his feet falling into line finally he would make the long journey from the alcove to her position, trying to desperately come up with the one line that would ensure her attention long enough to convince her he wasn’t a moron.
He was in fact, the urbanist. The precariat. Living life in the spaces between dishonest capitalism and the bread line. The afterthought of nation among bright silk shirted elegance and the plate glass excluding him from those fortunate enough not to descend. But this had given him quick wittedness in spades. So his mind searched for the words in total. Formulating at the surface in a coherent if a little melancholy first endeavour. While the music pulsed the crowd into a frenzy he digested the optics fully until at last he made it to within a few metres of her. Close enough to make it obvious it was her he was approaching if she had turned to notice. Then it happened.
Not some capture of the elusive urbane modern dating language. In fact nothing at all. He wondered for a second it he had gone blind and deaf. No it wasn’t a medical issue. There had been a sudden and disconcerting interruption of electrical power, and the more well lit dance floor was plunged into darkness along with half the city. A power cut.
Bollocks.
Heads would roll at the power station as a result of the ad hoc rise in crime you get during power outages. With no surveillance people engage the nefarious sections of the brain culminating in the question, what can I get away with? Although the phenomenon isn’t universal.
His first concern was his immediate safety. Unable to see in the few seconds of pitch dark he ran one hand down to cover his wallet housed in his back pocket. Forget the credit card, it’s the photos that were important. His other hand he moved to the top of his head. Because of darkness lasted there would be touching and that would negate the following accusations.
When the emergency lights kicked on after about five seconds he glanced around. There were a few slaps at first. Spots of repercussion. A shout from one end of the floor. A scream from near the bar as people realised is was not in fact their partner who had caressed them. There was pushing in places as separate fights broke out like a rash among the patrons. This was escalating and he needed to move.
He saw her again. Standing smartly with her back to the post holding her drink at waist level. Eyes fixed on the man standing directly in front of her. But he was facing away, this other guy. As the conflict erupted around her she remain perfectly still. Breathing. Smiling. Concentrating on something. He edged toward her through the melee having to duck as a pint glass travelled forcefully past him narrowly missing his head. He was pushed forward by a falling body, managing to keep steady, stay upright. But the second time the body came from the side and he was thrown forlornly on the deck sk**ding in an obscure manner, ending in a starfish like repose. He turned himself over to see a giant above him wielding a thin necked bottle, laughing, raising it above his head. There was going to be a defence, he was sure. A new redness boiled within him. But to his surprise his survival came in the form a wine glass struck at a certain point on the side of the giants massive unmissable head. It was her. She had seen the fall. Watched the coming assault and had acted.
Power was restored. The music jarred back to life and the floor was re-illuminated, multiple colours flashing and changing. He ascended from the floor. He watched her lips move but the music was so loud it took the words from her and replaced them with those of the singer.
I used to think that the day would never come, I’d see delight in the shade of the morning sun...
It was pointless even asking what she was trying to say. But she was saying something. Oh god she was beautiful. He struggled to retain his ability to think. But regained his composure. Then as if an icy hand was plunged into his soul and his being was stirred by some type of non-terrestrial element he managed a second later to raise both his hands and smile. A kind of charming schoolboy shrug.
My morning sun is the d**g that brings me near, to the c***dhood I lost replaced by fear...
She smiled right back at him. It was a wide and precious experience. Deliciously red and welcoming. Now she was saying something else. Again too loud to understand. But the battle raging around, almost lost to them, encased as they now where in a psychological bubble. He blocked out the sound and cannon of the crowd and concentrated only on her. And by the looks of it, she on him. There were centimetres between them now as they edged closer. The willow of mist from smokers or an ice machine. The theatrical pulse made them both curious. Destiny though, if that’s what they call it has a funny way of giving a sign that the present course unrelenting in its inevitability is the right one. Because in the further few seconds it took for them to exchange glances, shrugs and a hand signal from her there was a lurch from behind her. Another body cajoling, sidestepping in an awkward way then fully pushing her forward uncontrollably. He raised his hands involuntarily to arrest her advance and in a soundless, breathless, wordless fraction of a second she was in his arms.
I used to think that the day would never come, that my life would depend on the morning sun...
He turned her instinctively away from the crowd toward her leaning post and a shout, the sound of smashing glass unexpectedly loud made her tense up. This pulled her even closer into him. It took another moment for her to release her grip slightly and look up into his eyes. And smile again. He shuttled a hand between their faces and pointed towards an exit sign. She turned her head to look. Then glanced back and nodded. Smiled. Now if they could only make it through the crowd.
He considered pulling the fire alarm but decided against it on the basis it might cause a stampede. No they were going to have to become Olympians in an obstacle strewn race where the only prize would be a rush of cold air and a quieter noise level. So he ran his hand down her arm and took hers raising it a bit, catching her eye. She nodded again and he could see her shoulders rise as she took a breath. They bolted.
First they went left around an angry group of blue shirted office workers. Skirting the crowd all facing away from them to the centre of the dancefloor. Two man appeared in front of them one in civilian clothes and one dressed all in black grappling with each other. Another object unidentified rushed passed them moving left to right and they both dived under a rope partition emerging on the other side uns**thed. As they rounded two hair pulling young ladies a fire extinguisher bounced on the floor next to them dangerously close to her left foot. She jerked it back, raising her hands, still clutching his, pivoted her body. They rushed forward again a few steps. A line of bouncers poured from a stairwell nearly knocking them to one side. Then he saw the exit before him. Double red doors with a metal bar blocking them, a green sign. Fire exit. He pushed the bar. No joy. No movement. Were they locked? Bloody shouldn’t be. Still holding her hand he took a pace back and with as much strength as he could muster, raised a size nine boot and popped the doors open in a single strike. They were free.
In a side street, the volume now returned to an acceptable level he heard her voice for the first time. He was about to lead her off in a random direction, but she tugged him. Wide eyed and nearly laughing she said loudly, 'this way!’ and took charge of their flight. They traversed the street and stood to one side as four luminous police persons charged past them towards the club holding radios and batons. In a further ten seconds of brisk running they were both around another corner watching the clubbers pour out onto the street amid an array of blue lights and an army of emergency service personnel. The crossed another road heading away. He glanced back, just once. Then turned to observe her finally as the atmosphere died around them into a dull background hum. A flashback of that first sight in his mind not a distance memory, only about five minutes had passed. But it felt like he had known her a lifetime.
‘Thank you.’ He said. Paused. Breathed. ‘It was incredible. That guy was about to have me. I owe you one.’
'No problem.’ She replied. 'I thought it was you when I was in the lounge but I wasn’t sure.’
He was momentarily confused. Then his brain clocked on for work.
'Wait, you...’
‘Yes.’ She begun. ‘I was shown your picture by my friend. I’m sorry I’m so late. It is you isn’t it? Your Matty's friend.’
He smiled again and was about to face palm. Decided on a considered hand on his chin. This was the girl he was supposed to meet tonight.
‘I’m the guy. Matty’s mate. Yeah that’s me.’ Very cool indeed my son well done. Plonker. ‘My name is Fergal.’
Her face lit up. ‘I knew it. I should have come to you in the lounge but I’m afraid I lost my nerve. I was plucking up the courage when..’
‘The lights went out.’
‘Yeah.’ She paused again. Smiled delightfully. ‘My name is Penny.’
Jayla
- 04.11.2020
- 8
- 0
