Baste Lanie's boobs
From Create Your Own Story
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Your hand and arm are drenched. Lanie's thighs squeeze you. You look at where your hand plunges into her nethers. The top of her skirt is squished across her belly, near your dripping come. Her wet tits are sliding from either side of her chest. Her heavy black braid draped over one shoulder and trailing back under her arm. The smell, the flop of her. | Your hand and arm are drenched. Lanie's thighs squeeze you. You look at where your hand plunges into her nethers. The top of her skirt is squished across her belly, near your dripping come. Her wet tits are sliding from either side of her chest. Her heavy black braid draped over one shoulder and trailing back under her arm. The smell, the flop of her. | ||
| - | What you really want is nakedness. Nothing between you. | + | What you really want is nakedness. Nothing between you. Remove these conceited shreds, you and Lanie utterly bare, your bodies touching up and down, and right here in the copy room to fuck like fucking was meant, like proper animals, the sweat running and the glaze descending into every pore. Your hair black with wet. Tangled in Lanie's wet ass-length braid, the braid come loose and tying around your thighs as you ''fuck, fuck'', as you spelunk in her cave, across eons, seeking the weeping, milky trickles that form the stalagmites and stalactites, your fucking as hard and deliberate as geological time. You will monopolize, expropriate this goddam copy room until stone dissolves or your balls run out of come. There will be a line to use it extending for miles down the avenue while Lanie nails her pussy down on your fat cock for the countlessth time, as the infinite cycle of her come dribbles out around your prick and over your hips, as the comegrunts splur from the cave of her mouth, drip down on your tongue straining for hers.. |
| - | Or, you could let Lanie finish her work. | + | Or, you could let Lanie finish her work. That too is an option. |
Do you: | Do you: | ||
Revision as of 02:58, 22 January 2011
You withdraw your twitching thighs from Lanie's face. Your expression tells her everything. "Oh oh, here it comes," she says. Her voice is thick and rough.
You push her shoulder so she goes down on her bottom, her legs stretching forward between your legs, and you drop to one knee, straddling them. You scoot more forward, pushing her down so that she's almost on her back and her legs are behind you. Lanie's tits sway as she sinks down, and seeing you aim your cock at them, she arches them up at you; and then, your groan coming harsh and dry in your throat, you splatter Lanie's chest with semen.
It goes on for a minute. Your ragged breathing settles slowly. Lanie leaves the milksop where it falls, stickily dripping down between her tits, or over her fat nipples to her tummy, until a long cord of come drips down from your cockhead, draping itself over her right tit. Then she touches it with a fingertip or two as your chest gulps air slowly and a light burn builds in your legs from your half-crouch.
"Crazy," she says. "I'm soaked, totally.. soaked." She runs her fingers in the crease under her breast, meets your eyes.
Something about how she says soaked causes a light to go on. You reach a hand between her legs. Lanie's skirt is pushed up from sliding on the floor, and the southern border of her map of Tasmania just peeks below the hem. Your fingers slide over her wet meat, fish along her lips, sift between them. Lanie groans through her lasciviously loosened mouth. Her cunt is as heavy as mercury. You dip all four fingers in as Lanie starts to squirm and grabs your cock, hanging like sweet pudding, getting that string of come on her arm. Your hand moves rapidly in and out, slick as graphite, digits shoving in and your thumb caressing her clit. Lanie tries pumping you but you're a bit too soft and sticky and then her eyes meet yours again, helplessly, and her hips tremble violently and she loses it, she starts to fucking squirt all over your hand! She keens high and bright in her throat, and sinks, tugging spasmodically.
Your hand and arm are drenched. Lanie's thighs squeeze you. You look at where your hand plunges into her nethers. The top of her skirt is squished across her belly, near your dripping come. Her wet tits are sliding from either side of her chest. Her heavy black braid draped over one shoulder and trailing back under her arm. The smell, the flop of her.
What you really want is nakedness. Nothing between you. Remove these conceited shreds, you and Lanie utterly bare, your bodies touching up and down, and right here in the copy room to fuck like fucking was meant, like proper animals, the sweat running and the glaze descending into every pore. Your hair black with wet. Tangled in Lanie's wet ass-length braid, the braid come loose and tying around your thighs as you fuck, fuck, as you spelunk in her cave, across eons, seeking the weeping, milky trickles that form the stalagmites and stalactites, your fucking as hard and deliberate as geological time. You will monopolize, expropriate this goddam copy room until stone dissolves or your balls run out of come. There will be a line to use it extending for miles down the avenue while Lanie nails her pussy down on your fat cock for the countlessth time, as the infinite cycle of her come dribbles out around your prick and over your hips, as the comegrunts splur from the cave of her mouth, drip down on your tongue straining for hers..
Or, you could let Lanie finish her work. That too is an option.
Do you:
| Status | ||
| Health | Horny | Location: |
| MP | 0 | |
| Level | 1 | |
