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MsT's Simple Cantina

I'll be honest.
When I visited my friend in New Braunfels, we had Whataburger and it was ok.
Maybe if we would have at it at the restaurant, it might have been better.
 
I don't think fingers get the respect they deserve. They are capable of so much--they're almost prolific in their capacity. I mean, when you think about it, there's five of them on each hand--and two hands! Ten whole fingers that can act together, or separately.

A lone finger can trace itself along your arm, up and down, just letting you subtly know that it's there. That you're next to a friend. A finger can brush against your lips, lingering in their cushiony fullness. It can wander up your cheek and behind your ear, like a figure-skater around and around, just lightly...

Fingers can dance around the back of a neck, with their tips barely touching the skin. Or they can flatten themselves out to brush caresses along the spine. They can comb a head full of hair or provide a nesting place for you to rest your head.

Fingers can grasp shoulders, and they can wander to a smooth chin spreading their warmth down the front of a neck. Fingers can deftly unbutton, and unzip, and untie.... fingers can define the boundaries of a breast. They can dangle themselves above or play about a nipple as it becomes stiffer and stiffer... and they can mirror themselves to do it twice at once.

Fingers can glide down a body and lay themselves to rest at just the part of your waist where the barest strands of hair begin to grow. And they can linger...

Or they can crawl lower. They can entwine themselves in a garden of hair and play like children. Fingers can slide up and down the shaft of a hardening cock, just barely touching the tip. They can whisper along the underside, or they can find themselves damp as they brush back and forth along the crease at which it meets the growing sacks. They can apply the slightest pressure, and then the slightest bit more and more until they are dancing up and down the length. Fingers can be warm, and they can twist and dive and spread themselves and gather themselves together again.

And they can curl. They can touch a hardening spot, and fingers can kiss that spot over and over and over, swarming themselves. They can embrace that one spot with all their attention and roll on top of it until it quivers. Until it roars.

And fingers can stay there, and they can relax themselves, and fold themselves until they're once again playing in the glen just below the waistline. They can allow a person to breathe again, and simply... breathe...
 
SimplyMsT said:
I don't think fingers get the respect they deserve. They are capable of so much--they're almost prolific in their capacity. I mean, when you think about it, there's five of them on each hand--and two hands! Ten whole fingers that can act together, or separately.

A lone finger can trace itself along your arm, up and down, just letting you subtly know that it's there. That you're next to a friend. A finger can brush against your lips, lingering in their cushiony fullness. It can wander up your cheek and behind your ear, like a figure-skater around and around, just lightly...

Fingers can dance around the back of a neck, with their tips barely touching the skin. Or they can flatten themselves out to brush caresses along the spine. They can comb a head full of hair or provide a nesting place for you to rest your head.

Fingers can grasp shoulders, and they can wander to a smooth chin spreading their warmth down the front of a neck. Fingers can deftly unbutton, and unzip, and untie.... fingers can define the boundaries of a breast. They can dangle themselves above or play about a nipple as it becomes stiffer and stiffer... and they can mirror themselves to do it twice at once.

Fingers can glide down a body and lay themselves to rest at just the part of your waist where the barest strands of hair begin to grow. And they can linger...

Or they can crawl lower. They can entwine themselves in a garden of hair and play like children. Fingers can slide up and down the shaft of a hardening cock, just barely touching the tip. They can whisper along the underside, or they can find themselves damp as they brush back and forth along the crease at which it meets the growing sacks. They can apply the slightest pressure, and then the slightest bit more and more until they are dancing up and down the length. Fingers can be warm, and they can twist and dive and spread themselves and gather themselves together again.

And they can curl. They can touch a hardening spot, and fingers can kiss that spot over and over and over, swarming themselves. They can embrace that one spot with all their attention and roll on top of it until it quivers. Until it roars.

And fingers can stay there, and they can relax themselves, and fold themselves until they're once again playing in the glen just below the waistline. They can allow a person to breathe again, and simply... breathe...
Click to expand...
Damn! Boing!
 
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