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How Bad…

My mind reels with thoughts of you.  All day.

I want to ask you questions, keep the conversation going.  All day.  Stupid questions too…

Questions like what your favourite colour is or what your favourite food is.

My brain hurts from having your face in my head all day.  I swear I have it memorized, that face.

Your eyes and your nose and your lips and your ears.  That damn line-up.  Your eyes.  Your mouth.  And those goddamn teeth of yours.

I hear your voice, randomly.  And I imagine it calling my name.  Over and over and over again.

I think of the length of you and how I want to climb you so bad…how I want to slowly crawl over you and kiss your thighs and your torso…

…your belly and your chest and your neck and your ears, dip my tongue along the edge of your earlobes, hear you moan.  That moan.

And your eyes.  I want to kiss your eyes.

And then I want to sit up on you and slide you, slowly, slide you into me, feeling my walls tear open with the thickness of you.

And then my head instinctively goes back, my eyes close, clear indication of the pleasure you’re filling me with.

I want to ride you slow but my insides want you fast.  My insides want to feel you deep in my belly, so deep that tears form in my eyes.

And thinking of this now, thinking of you now, thinking of how my walls will feel once you’re inside, thinking of how wet you’ll make me, makes me wet.

I feel a slight throbbing deep inside me and my mouth falls open slightly, as my tongue slowly slides across my lips, just from thoughts of you….

…that’s how bad I want you baby.

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Ambition Of A Ride Her

I could enjoy waking up to my cock in your mouth and my balls in your hands, enjoying the tips of your nails over my skin, the veins pulsing in your mouth.  I wanna see those eyes gazing into mine as you crave me, please me, so ambitiously.

Ambitiously?  You’ll be easy to please, hard from the moment I slide you in my mouth, eager and ready to shove all of your length inside my warmth.

See how ambitious that is?  Yes, I’m eager.  Eager to watch you soak my cock with your spit, pulling back just enough so I don’t come.

You want to mess up my face, don’t you?

Nah.  I want to mess up your voice.

Oh.

Yes.  I want to find ways that you can suck all this out of me, throat fuck deep into that mouth baby, lick the shaft, smack your lips on my balls; I want to run my fingers through your hair and pull on it while my cock is fully submerged in your mouth, the tip lodged in the back of your throat, holding on to your head as I fuck your mouth, you delightful fuck, making me come repeatedly.

Wow.  You want to spill that load into my mouth that bad?

Yes.

And I’ll take it.  And once I’ve had enough of sucking you, I’m going to sit this pussy up on you and feel you deep within my walls.  And you’ll be torn because you’ll want to get back into my mouth, but all it makes you do is fuck me harder because you’re so mad at your indecision, that you’ll slam up into me, making my eyes tear and pulling my hair so hard, I’ll cry out.

I’m going to want to fuck you from the front, feel those tits pressed against me.

I know.  Because I’m going to want to feel you press down on me while I run my fingers along your spine, over that curve of your behind, pull you closer into me, deeper.

I want to give you all the sensations; fuck your mouth, play with your clit, suck on your thighs and see where you give up first.  I say you’ll stop sucking, only because the kisses on your thighs would drive you up the wall and you won’t be able to concentrate on my dick.

You’re right.  I won’t.

I’m going to fasten a belt around your throat and make sure you take it all, you delicious fuck.

Jesus.  You can’t do me like this.

I can.  You’re mine to fuck and I will do you as I please.

#MusicMonday – Imagination – Eric Bellinger

*listen to this sexiness here*

Girl come through and let’s do what we do in your imagination
When I’m gone, show me how you pretend
How do you bend your knees?
How do you arch your back?
How do you scream my name when we’re in your imagination?

I know that you hate how much I be on the road
And how I be working late all night at the studio
I know you’re a woman and I know you’ve got needs
But I know that you never, never sneak out on me

How do you do it when it’s three o’clock in the morning?
And how do you touch it when you in that bed all alone?
Show me, show me, show me…

Girl come through and let’s do what we do in your imagination
When I’m gone, show me how you pretend
Girl you gotta show me.
How do you bend your knees?
How do you arch your back?
How do you scream my name when we’re in your imagination?

Do I be on top of you? Do you be on the bottom?
And do we use protection? If we do, you know I got ’em
Do we skip the foreplay? Tell me, do we sixty-nine?
Do you prefer a quickie, or do we go hard all night?

I want to know what turns you on. I swear I’m dying to know baby.
So I can be all that and more.

Girl come through and let’s do what we do in your imagination
When I’m gone, show me how you pretend
How do you bend your knees?
How do you arch your back?
How do you scream my name when we’re in your imagination?

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Just Come Over

Just come over.images (1)

I just want to talk.

I promise not to touch you.  Better yet, I won’t even look at you.

I don’t want to risk looking up into those eyes and being reminded….

So I’ll keep my head down, my eyes low and I’ll just listen; I’ll listen to your laugh when you realize how ridiculous I’m being and I’ll listen to your sighs and your deep breathing.  But I promise I won’t get close enough to hear your breathing.  I won’t even try to inhale your scent.

I just want you near.  I just want you close; close enough to touch, but I won’t touch, I promise I won’t touch but I want you close enough to feel the sensation of this vibe we have, this thing we share.  It’s here.  It’s still here.  I know you know it.  I know you feel it.  I know you feel me.  You.  Feel.  This.

That’s why you need to just come over.  Just come with me.  I promise I won’t touch you.  I’m aching though, physically aching.  When my mind wanders and I remember…..it’s this feeling that needs fulfillment.  You know the feeling….

But I’ll behave.

I’ll keep my hands to myself and I’ll sit away from you but I want you nearby I want you close I want you here so I can see you I just want to see you I just want to hear you please baby I just have to have you here with me but I won’t look I won’t touch I won’t want I won’t I won’t I promise but my heart baby my heart just aches and it’s a horrible feeling and it’s just hurting physically hurting and I just want to be filled with you I want all of you on all of me and I want your scent and your touch and your sweat remember when you sweat baby and you were anxious so anxious and I just wanted to please you I just wanted all your pleasure and I let you have it I let you take it I gave you all of me I gave you all of me for one night baby and I’d give everything to have you push up inside me all the way until my back arches that way and I’m pushed all the way back taking all you have for me baby and hearing you tell me you’re going to come you’re going to come you’re going to….

Just come over.

I just want to talk.

FaceTime

Buried everywhere
Buried everywhere
FaceTime.

On my phone. His rugged, handsome face smiling devilishly up at me.

I adjust myself, almost intuitively, preparing for what’s to come and smile.

Anticipation building, we know what’s about to happen, yet we make small talk.

I hate small talk.

“How are you?” he asks.

“I’m good,” is my reply.  I glimpse the beater I adore and mentally remove every inch as I kiss his shoulders, wishing this were more than just my fantasy.

“What are you wearing?” I ask.

He rubs his eye, smiling, a nervousness I sense.

I notice his long, thin fingers on perfect hands and immediately thoughts creep into my brain. His phone moves and I see his chest, his stomach, his torso, the print, his legs and my imagination runs crazy.  The desire is real.

That beautiful imprint.

I lick my lips and he pounces.

“What are you wearing?” I tell him nothing, and I prove it.

His lips escape a barely audible, “Fuck” and I say, “Yes please.  Someday soon?”

“Lemme see,” he whispers.  I move and moan in unison, fingers gliding slowly over the wetness.  I pull my fingers up to my lips and let him watch as I lick the glisten off slowly, circling my tongue like I would on that print. He’s stroking.

“Lemme see,” I say.

Immediately thoughts of having him inside me occur.  I want him. He moves and it makes me move; hands exploring, I imagine his fingers inside as I worship the many inches he’s blessed with, one inch at a time in my mouth. He moans and it makes me moan.  He wants to watch my face but wants to watch me grind and this FaceTime is the closest thing we have to reality right now.  I have to be with him and it’s a whirlwind of damn emotions.  I want him and he wants me and he says, “lemme hear you,” but I wanna hear him and I want his face buried everywhere. I want him buried inside and I want to reach through the screen and kiss him and make that happen and in seconds, one, two, three, four, it’s all passion and lust and hate and bliss and satisfaction and frustration, so much fucking frustration. I look into his eyes and make promises, promises of making this a reality. He smiles, his rugged, handsome face smiling devilishly up at me.  In that moment, I’m all his.

“We really need to make this happen.”