He only loves me for my lips. I know it, even if He says different. • It’s the way He looks at my mouth when I speak, and the hunger when we kiss that has me convinced. He fell in love with my mouth, but not for the intellect conveyed... no, but for the voluptuous beauty and softness on full display.
My Sir loves my ass. He trained my ass. He’s my first and only anal experience, and that’s how He likes it. That’s how I like it too. • Below is a preview of what He plans to do to my ass this weekend. I know because we wrote it together last night. • BONUS VIDEOS. 18+ Only Please. Enjoy! 💋
We sat on the rooftop with the city lights as our backdrop, devouring those sweet chocolate crêpes and sipping on wine from glasses that Moscow brought up from his apartment.
He kissed her lips lightly, then licked at their fullness. When she kissed him back, a fire ignited and he bit her lower lip.
Sometimes, just the mere taste of fine chocolate can bring me close to an orgasm. It can be a transformative experience when I find myself alone with a tasty chocolate dish and a glass of red wine.
Moscow ordered for both of us in perfect French. I listened closely and gathered we were starting with a soup of some kind and then a dish with prawns and more red wine. The server returned shortly with slices of warm baguette in a bread basket. “Merci!” we both chimed enthusiastically. It seemed that Moscow liked warm bread as much as me. Well, despite his nickname, he was French!
In general, pain sucks. If you've ever spent time at a hospital they ask you to rate your pain with a likert scale so that they can determine how to eliminate it. When you're in so much pain, it can be hard to relax and hard for your body to heal. But, pain can also teach us many things.
Samantha put the cool glass of bubbling champagne to her full painted lips and drank. She closed her dark eyes as she swallowed, trying to savor every drop. She took a deep breath to calm herself knowing what was to come.
The private cab Sir had called moved us slowly and smoothly through the city streets of London. With the privacy partition, it felt like we were very much alone, Sir and I.
Our table sat in a dimly lit corner of a side alcove off the main dining room in an aging Italian restaurant. We were fairly isolated from the rest of the diners, just the way Sir likes it. I pressed a glass of cool prosecco to my lips and drank in the smooth sparkling wine. As I swallowed, I felt the coolness in my throat followed by a heat rising to my cheeks. I could feel his eyes on me. I returned the glass to the table and slowly raised my eyes to meet his steel-gray stare. His gaze was amiable but intense. He was studying me. I felt my lips drying up from the drink, and ran my tongue over them to bring back some moisture. I smiled, he did not.
