Dirty Talk

 

So dirty.  So much talk.  Always so much to say.  It’s a sex conversation, conversation while sexual:

“Don’t stop baby, I’m going to come.”

But wait, I’m thinking too fast.  Let me start again.

“You feel so damn good baby.”

And,

“Fuck, why are you so good?”

“Who fucks you like me, huh?  Who loves your dick like I do?”

But,

“I want this forever.  Can we fuck like this forever?  I can never tire of this boo, I can do this every damn day.”

The one-liners,

“Jesus Christ.”

“Holy fuck.”

Turning to religion like,

“My God, I’m going to come.”

“Dear God, I love this dick.”

Met with,

“You like this, don’t you?”

“Can you take it?  Can you take it all?”

And,

“Give it to me.  Let me hear you.  Say my name.”

The laughter, the moans, dear Jesus, the moans, the sounds his body makes when it’s met with mine, the passion of his lips against mine, his skin on me, his limbs wrapped around me, my nails digging into his back, this language, this communication…

“Goddamn this pussy.”

And,

“This is mine.  This is all mine.”

“Are you sure?  You sure this is yours?”

“I can guaran-fucking-tee it’s mine.  I know it’s mine.  You’re molded to my dick.”

And then he kisses my face, my cheeks, and he lets his lips glide along my neck, down into my valley, my body languidly stretching out for further pleasure, my head thrown back in utter and complete ecstasy and I just want this, I just want him.

“Let me get it baby, let me feel that ‘nani all over me, come all over this dick, baby.”

And his voice brings me where I need to go, where he wants me to be and in a few more words, his gentle coaxing voice urging me, while Breezy in the background talking about ‘don’t say a word, just let me fuck you back to sleep’, the irony making me laugh as my man’s stroke is in sync to the words, the talk, this dirty talk and it assists in my release, the pressure building and then quickly soothing, my legs stretching out, my body motionless for a second, two, three, four, fuck, five, six, dear God, seven, eight, motherfucker, while everything pulses and throbs and vibrates and shakes and he thrusts, pushing deeper…

“Yes baby, like that, just like that, just like that.”

 

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