Veroe
Maestro/Truthseeker
- Joined
- Apr 5, 2009
- Posts
- 63,401
In the mood for...
- Thread starter ShyMystica
- Start date
V
Vail_Indigo
Guest
I'm in the mood for...
a sweet, little girl, completely out of her depth
for the scent of her breath, that tinge of nerves, desperation
For her mouth, dry from the confusing adrenelin
for the catch in the back of her throat when she tries to speak
the wobble in her knees as she tries to stand, perched on heels far too thin
for the look in her eyes of 'please', 'oh god', 'run', 'stay', 'please'
flickering
I'm in the mood to hold her there, in that moment, that singular
moment
a sweet, little girl, completely out of her depth
for the scent of her breath, that tinge of nerves, desperation
For her mouth, dry from the confusing adrenelin
for the catch in the back of her throat when she tries to speak
the wobble in her knees as she tries to stand, perched on heels far too thin
for the look in her eyes of 'please', 'oh god', 'run', 'stay', 'please'
flickering
I'm in the mood to hold her there, in that moment, that singular
moment
yeishia
Literotica Guru
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- May 5, 2009
- Posts
- 17,061
shadowsbeauty
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2011
- Posts
- 391
I am in the mood for a nice, slow, hard, leg shaking fuck
Britwitch
Classically curvy
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2004
- Posts
- 23,086
Mmmm, something like this, please...
gets on her hands and knees...just in case anyone passing has a blindfold and some ideas
http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ls0o4mm6OG1r2eng0o1_500.jpg
gets on her hands and knees...just in case anyone passing has a blindfold and some ideas
http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ls0o4mm6OG1r2eng0o1_500.jpg
Last_Rider
La Fin Absolue du Monde
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2007
- Posts
- 11,076
Providing my Angel with her above request
S
Sassymama
Guest
S
Sassymama
Guest
..............
Nightfreak
I Walk Alone...
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2009
- Posts
- 5,668
In the mood to write something even if it is wrong
Cheska
Renaissance Nerd.
- Joined
- Oct 15, 2011
- Posts
- 4,253
Well, sometimes, you have to do wrong to make it right.. ask Batman.
Nightfreak
I Walk Alone...
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2009
- Posts
- 5,668
Well I try to make it right.... and not wrong.
Cheska
Renaissance Nerd.
- Joined
- Oct 15, 2011
- Posts
- 4,253
I see what you are doing, trying to play with my mind! Ha! I keep my mind safe... in a jar.. on a shelf.
Nightfreak
I Walk Alone...
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2009
- Posts
- 5,668
I see what you are doing, trying to play with my mind! Ha! I keep my mind safe... in a jar.. on a shelf.
I never play mind games.... I always loose.
Mephistophelily
Crazy is...
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- Sep 6, 2006
- Posts
- 15,955
Nightfreak
I Walk Alone...
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2009
- Posts
- 5,668
That is hot....
Great minds think alikeI am in the mood for a nice, slow, hard, leg shaking fuck
I'm in mood for a nice, rough fuck!
Cheska
Renaissance Nerd.
- Joined
- Oct 15, 2011
- Posts
- 4,253
Written by Vail_Indigo
Tuesday's Girl(s)
The young one works in my building. She must be an intern, far too young and fresh to have made it through college yet. Every Tuesday she shows up in something that makes my toes curl with need. Today, it’s a Chinese silk dress down to just below the knees, slit almost up to her hip, and black flip-flops, her perfectly straight blonde hair dancing in the breeze. I want her. I want to taste that flesh, hear nails along her skin, feel her teeth on my thigh. But I can't. Not today. Today is Tuesday. Every Tuesday she meets a woman, maybe 10 years older. Darker. A bit more edge. Curves that match the slenderness of the younger. Today she wears a silk blouse, ivory, and a short black skirt with black stockings, the tops hinted at with each step, and black pumps. They meet across the street, a park I can see into part of, a half- wall. They stare at each other, standing close seeming to talk, but their lips move too slowly (my feet on my window sill...a pair of cheap binoculars to my eyes...my breath slow and even, my door locked). It’s obvious from the way the Younger moves that the Older has her hand between her thighs...barely moving fingers...letting her know exactly where she stands, who is in control. Lips slowly moving. Blonde's tummy begins to undulate. This is where they suddenly spin out of sight, behind a full wall. I groan. But I know. Younger can barely stand, leaning up against the wall, Older doing wondrous things to sweet, fresh cunt, forcing her higher and higher, Strong hand on shoulder (neck?) pinning her there. Low, throaty voice: "Love how I fuck your cunt, babygirl? My sweet bitch? Do you like how your Queen does this?" Barely audible...almost a whimper:"Yes, my...Queen..fuck me...please...cunt needs you...babygirl needs you" "Yes, fucktoy. Yes, pretty slut. Who's your Momma, Who owns your cunt, who owns this babygirl?" She almost cries out, bites hard into her hand..."You!" And she's cumming, held up by the strength of the Older. Finally done. Finally breathing. But it’s far from over. I see her foot, black pump, come to rest on the half-wall; her skirt must be around her waist. The little one is there, inches from her cunt. "Now, babygirl, you want to make me happy, don't you? Don't you want to be my good little whore?" the Younger chokes back a word, and before she can make another sound, strong fingers in her mane force her into the delicious wet heat. She moans, smothered, drowning. She groans, hungry, drunk. Nails dig into flesh. Fist pounds on back. Cum flows again. I see the Older leave, licking her fingers. It’s a full half hour before the Younger appears. I shudder as I let my fingers touch something sensitive ever so slightly. I want her. To be her Momma-Queen. But I can't. It's Tuesday. And today I'm the slut.
I want to be Tuesday's girl so bad.
Thank you Vail.
Never stop writing from the heart..
Tuesday's Girl(s)
The young one works in my building. She must be an intern, far too young and fresh to have made it through college yet. Every Tuesday she shows up in something that makes my toes curl with need. Today, it’s a Chinese silk dress down to just below the knees, slit almost up to her hip, and black flip-flops, her perfectly straight blonde hair dancing in the breeze. I want her. I want to taste that flesh, hear nails along her skin, feel her teeth on my thigh. But I can't. Not today. Today is Tuesday. Every Tuesday she meets a woman, maybe 10 years older. Darker. A bit more edge. Curves that match the slenderness of the younger. Today she wears a silk blouse, ivory, and a short black skirt with black stockings, the tops hinted at with each step, and black pumps. They meet across the street, a park I can see into part of, a half- wall. They stare at each other, standing close seeming to talk, but their lips move too slowly (my feet on my window sill...a pair of cheap binoculars to my eyes...my breath slow and even, my door locked). It’s obvious from the way the Younger moves that the Older has her hand between her thighs...barely moving fingers...letting her know exactly where she stands, who is in control. Lips slowly moving. Blonde's tummy begins to undulate. This is where they suddenly spin out of sight, behind a full wall. I groan. But I know. Younger can barely stand, leaning up against the wall, Older doing wondrous things to sweet, fresh cunt, forcing her higher and higher, Strong hand on shoulder (neck?) pinning her there. Low, throaty voice: "Love how I fuck your cunt, babygirl? My sweet bitch? Do you like how your Queen does this?" Barely audible...almost a whimper:"Yes, my...Queen..fuck me...please...cunt needs you...babygirl needs you" "Yes, fucktoy. Yes, pretty slut. Who's your Momma, Who owns your cunt, who owns this babygirl?" She almost cries out, bites hard into her hand..."You!" And she's cumming, held up by the strength of the Older. Finally done. Finally breathing. But it’s far from over. I see her foot, black pump, come to rest on the half-wall; her skirt must be around her waist. The little one is there, inches from her cunt. "Now, babygirl, you want to make me happy, don't you? Don't you want to be my good little whore?" the Younger chokes back a word, and before she can make another sound, strong fingers in her mane force her into the delicious wet heat. She moans, smothered, drowning. She groans, hungry, drunk. Nails dig into flesh. Fist pounds on back. Cum flows again. I see the Older leave, licking her fingers. It’s a full half hour before the Younger appears. I shudder as I let my fingers touch something sensitive ever so slightly. I want her. To be her Momma-Queen. But I can't. It's Tuesday. And today I'm the slut.
I want to be Tuesday's girl so bad.
Thank you Vail.
Never stop writing from the heart..
DarkWarrioress
~ An Amethyst Mist ~
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2011
- Posts
- 26,117
yeishia
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 5, 2009
- Posts
- 17,061
Perplexia
Romance embellisher
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2007
- Posts
- 18,471
alwaysthinking1
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 17, 2009
- Posts
- 395
In the mood for - starting with a kiss-brushing back her hair as the kiss deepens-her hand going to the back of my neck pulling me closer and not just physically closer.
frombehindyou
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 24, 2008
- Posts
- 2,021
I'd be happy to go there. But i'm in the mood for hard, fast, sweaty, rough, and long sex.
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