alanthisguy
Virgin
- Joined
- Oct 27, 2007
- Posts
- 1
I'm a verbose erotica writer looking for a woman who enjoys hearing all about slow passion and wild times, and will encourage and contribute.
It's only fair I start a little something to give you a feel, to see if you like my style.
We're both at the art museum, it's a warm summer's day and the museum is crowded. There's an exhibit on the female nude, statues and paintings surrounding us with images of full, plump, sensual women. I admire them, feeling like I'm reading porn in the company of women, and electrified by the presence of women around me, admiring the art as well. I see you, mature and shapely, and make my way in your direction.
It's clear I'm coming for you. You can see my eyes haven't moved from you. I'm looking you over with the intensity that the patrons are using for the art. Your thin, clingy dress, your long curly hair. You put your back to me, turn your face to the side to see me, and brush the hair away from your throat. I can see you breathing more heavily now, see your throat throb a bit, your chest heaving.
It's crowded. I make my way just behind you to admire the collection, and we creep closer, trembling, as we end up in a line to see something, we don't even know what anymore.
Care to enjoy more of this with me? Email, PM and IM me.
It's only fair I start a little something to give you a feel, to see if you like my style.
We're both at the art museum, it's a warm summer's day and the museum is crowded. There's an exhibit on the female nude, statues and paintings surrounding us with images of full, plump, sensual women. I admire them, feeling like I'm reading porn in the company of women, and electrified by the presence of women around me, admiring the art as well. I see you, mature and shapely, and make my way in your direction.
It's clear I'm coming for you. You can see my eyes haven't moved from you. I'm looking you over with the intensity that the patrons are using for the art. Your thin, clingy dress, your long curly hair. You put your back to me, turn your face to the side to see me, and brush the hair away from your throat. I can see you breathing more heavily now, see your throat throb a bit, your chest heaving.
It's crowded. I make my way just behind you to admire the collection, and we creep closer, trembling, as we end up in a line to see something, we don't even know what anymore.
Care to enjoy more of this with me? Email, PM and IM me.
