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As the door shut, her gentleman click the deadbolt, now locked in. He
had her all to himself, he would devour her. So he thought, but
actions were delayed by the suasion of emotions. His shoes were black
and the lady, Aimee Ambrose had a nothing but black underwear. She had
her nails done, that morning after breakfast, she enjoyed teasing him.
She smiled coyly and even stuck her tongue at him. He had been lusting
her for the touch, of her hand and even the feel of her hair. His
pants were un-buckled, before even ringing the buzzer on the street.
He had un-loosened himself and his black belt. Licking his licks, she
noticed his new tan, and wondered if it were real or bought out the
bottle. She felt moisture running down her inner thighs. She felt the
line of heat head slowly, seductively reminding to forget the time.
The apartment was empty, mostly boxes with blue phrases and numbers,
he had joined her pack and was ready now to open her up. His eyes were
blue, and hers were brown, his favorite. He called her name. "Amber,
I've been missing you." She sighed silently, not wanting him to hear
her, she wondered if he glanced at her tightening nipples, they were
large and she read once, his old journal, just how much he likes to
bite them. He is her type, but never tells him so, she want to kneel
before him, and welcome him into her mouth, she loves to lick and
laugh. Even in the presence of "mister man" she loves to lick and
taste him salt. On days of rain, she curls up on the bed and rubs her
moisture away until her nail hurt. "How are you feeling handsome ?"
She said, in a toned not devoid of mystery, she chided him with
confidence and wanted only his perfect affection, to fill her and she
laughs, so infectiously, she wants him to stop speaking, to rip her
bra off and maybe slap, across her face, she want a taste of her warm
blood, and how she imagines to leave it on his penis. She wants to end
this game, and be hurt, by his hairy hands. She never imagines
allowing herself, to be seduced by him. After some awkward movements,
he steps forwards and removes his sandals.
He is manicured and can even smell his new shampoo in the air. She
wants him, but doesn't move, she wants to be taken, and thrown
violently with all volumes of passion. "Are we gonna fuck or are you
gonna just suck my cunt ?" Boldly and beautiful, he headed for the
refrigerator, reaching for a cold handle and a bottle of Vodka, he
mixed the cola with it and lighted the candle. There were no lights in
the apartment and would soon be dark, he was thinking of how hard he
would press her behind to the wall, he was intentionally mute. Let her
wonder, he thought, let her wonder. "Come drink this you cunt ?" Eyes
opened, she put her right hand on the wall and removed her black
panties one leg after the other, she knew he would watch, and wanted
to see the right leg first and then he saw, she had shaved all the
black hair off. He could see her, like never before, making a sly
smirk, the gentleman called her with his finger, and she put on her
high pumps. He loves the sounds of the click clacking across the
hardwood floor. All that tension building, and with each step and
sound, in the hear, penetrated him better than he ever could her. She
was shapely, breast with a brown ring around her nipples and small
bumps that liven when he is there. She reached for his manhood, all
nine inches of fear, which gripped her heart, and gave goose bumps,
for it had been more than six months. They had met online, in those
chat rooms only everyone says they never see, but too often leave,
those remarks, like the marks on a man's back. "My pussy is wet." She
whispered in his ear, and gazed him away, those brown eyes, how he
adored them for all he saw in her photo online, were two eyes,
mysteriously she made him wait, and now he saw her. Whole and the
smile of sin clearly shouting, to him, take this and throw money away.
"I normally charge six thousands dollars and hour you know ?" And with
that he remembered, he lost his wallet in the park. He had nothing,
but slacks and a shirt, not even underwear or cologne. For he
shampooed his black hair and imagined that be enough. She kneels down
and said... "This is for me, just me." And knew it was she who was
using him. He barely moved, still holding the drink on one hand, he
trembled slightly and she heard the ice slam against the drink's
glass. Enjoying having such much power around her lips, she lick the
bottom of his balls and tried to shallow one." "Where is your husband
he asked, seeing their wedding photo, the only item placed on the
table near by. He looked strong, but he sure did not mind the moment.
She tickled his calves and cautioned him not to move, for she would
punish him more. And then, he laughed, he cups her breast after
bending down quickly stole the most important kiss. He wanted her
whole. He slapped her, hard and with intent. Shoving his fingers his
fingers into her vagina, he wondered if it were true what her profile
stated, that she was small and tight. He felt the warmth, like a sunny
day, in the ocean, and no sand to stop him from floating into her
heart shape ass. A tattoo colored red and black thorns said HENRY
around her ankle, she had on gold ankle bracelet, and her wedding
rock, that band, was still on her finger. She did not care; she knew
her husband was hard at work, to provide her with level of luxury
called Park Avenue. She was twenty-four, he was a lie. Thirty-three,
as his profile said, but really didn't know nor didn't think to ask.
His arms were covered with veins, pulsing with blood and power as he
lifted him and she lowered herself onto his life, his hardened and
holy cock.
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