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Time stirred the fire of our own desires. We had waited, till we were both on the edge of ecstasy's edge. Your image that is firmly within me, as the first contact of you, almost embarrasses me to divulge. While the structure of it is complexity. Administering holds enormous potential for any sense of control. The thought of the first kiss. Simple and yet be fraught with the implications for alternative outcomes.

Trying to minimizing my desires I see no alternatives of my precaution. To endure the agony of not knowing, Am I prepared. My hands would be the instruments of your undressing. Would we kiss? We may kiss. Would the senses we have in our mouths find enjoyment Yes, we would taste each other at last?

Would we enjoy the subtle mixing of our labored breathing? Would we enjoy the warm, wet lust that fills each of our mouths? Would we permitted our lips to part, encouraging, although would both our tongues know of these secrets already?

Could we surviving the agony of sweet ecstasy, but whatever would you expect to gain without making the proper investment up front?

This investment period is where I will validate our assumptions. I suspect that you have little patience. Impatient, will be dealt with. I wouldn't want to prevent you from the administration of the perfect arousal.

You may laugh and doubt that there is such a thing. But then, you doubted that there was a special place I could take you. You doubted that what I would or could ever give would be more than just sex.

Before me you thought the word devour dealt with eating a meal when you were starving. I will teach you that devouring has little to do with food. My big surprise to you was that you could devour a moment in time.

You could devour an event embedded in lust, swallowing a memory whole, intact with all the trimmings of sweet pleasures that in reality were devouring you, devouring that sweetest place you keep Ordinary is not on the agenda, I will not settle for making ordinary love with you. My development of your arousal will not be compromised. I will not have to bind you by the wrists to the headboard.

In your head you are already there.

I feel that you will be begging me for many things, including some degree of mercy. I can see it already. Actually, I can hear it all happening. I can hear you begging me, begging me in your softest and sexist voice to release you

Why would I place our journey to risk? I suspect you are questioning why I am sharing these things with you now. Simple because I can.

You see, this is not about ordinary sex. This is about loving you, a love that takes to go beyond. This is about unfurling your sails into the winds of a hard earned passion.

For you, that presents a dilemma, a paradox even.

You could not unfurl anything with any lack of concentration. Virtues of doing things slowly.

Everything offered to you up to this point has been fast, hurried, rushed, or offered as an afterthought, as someone else bore full speed ahead intent on her own pleasure. There is more to it than that.

Count on me taking you to a place where you will know of what I speak. You will know what your completion can be like should be like. Ordinary will no longer be acceptable to you.

But first, you must learn how to get there, and I will be not permit ordinary get in the way of your discovery.

You will submit. Yes, you can scream put up a monumental fuss, but since you will be Finally found, you submit. I will show a level of patience necessary to endure your journey.

My hands will be the instruments that transport you to a level of consciousness where you become one with your body. In order to go to an extraordinary place it is mandatory to give all of yourself to me. That I will do.

Every ounce of energy I have will be expended in this journey of deliverance. My energy can never really be lost. If you let me properly connected to you, focused on your pleasure, the flow of my energy into you is replenished by the energy you give to me in return. We never lose it. The magic is in the transference of it -- from me to you, Its a matter of balance.

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(I had the distinct pleasure of co-writing this story with the vibrant and sexy lesliejones whose brilliance at turning a phrase and using humiliation is without par. If you enjoyed this bit of erotica please send Leslie a note and thank her. – SplendidSpunk) My name is Emma and as the title suggests my life to this point, while not all that unusual in today's world, has been one where I've struggled to grow up and act my age. I was an OK child but by the time I was sixteen something changed...

Deep Clit Fast to last

She leaned against him the case of the cock of unrequited love needed to bring it back to life those Babes knew their craft.He was now tangled in her sheets How he sucked her nipple she had those lush curves how it blended to his cock Universe London England was juicy so hungry they were sex hunter’s those pornographic shops those French postcards lip sucker How you guided me and took me inside your click…click …cock …cock doesn’t stop the erotic clock sex extreme pleasure.She gripped his...

Wrong Room Maybe Blacken

Hi my name is Tiffany and I'm 23 years old. I've been told I'm hot and well, to be honest, when I get all dolled up for clubs, I do turn heads. I have long black hair down to the middle of my back. Men seem to like my shapely body. My measurements you wonder? 34D-24-32, so yeah I guess they have a reason to stare and I love it when they do. As a matter of fact I've always made sure I am the center of attention. My hubby and I finally had a night out and a baby sitter for the entire evening. So...

Donna and Equality Donnas Friend and Donnas Philosophy

Donna and Equality ‘If,’ said Donna, ‘all men are created equal, what about women?’ She had the ability to raise such matters at moments when I was not entirely able to reply, this time being engaged upon a mission to return a favour she had bestowed upon me earlier. Her thighs were clamped fairly tightly to my ears which made me unsure I had heard her correctly. I raised my head but she tapped it. ‘You concentrate on the task in tongue, College, and let me muse a while longer.’ Her fingers...

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