Phanaltasie
Her rear buttonwhole was closed, contracted in a squeezed whirl spot. With a buttered finger techee Oliver stroked slowly over it on the way from the point below her back all the way around to her clit.
It was an unresistable temptation, to use a vulgar phrase. Oliver grabbed a smallish dildo, buttered it carefully, applied it to the fine line between her buttocks. He stroked it gently upwards and downwards, leisurely, watching the bulge proceed parallel to the dildo. The dildo, white with small green spots, flexed lightly under the feeble pressure, and promptly emitted small squeaks after each change of direction (it was the latest in creative sex toys).
She writhed more now, emitting her own sounds, accompanying the Harmonious Flexidildon (Green model). Twitiching buttocks — that had to be a good sign. Hesitating for one moment, Oliver nevertheless decided to use this kairos. With an intense movement (in all simplicity of course), he pressed the round butt of the Flexidildon against her contracted asshole. Resistance and a groanie. Oliver let go, and put more butter on the Flexi. Massaging the rectum area gently with the fingers of his left hand he acheived the feinte effect he had hoped for. She shot her back, relaxed. The moment did not escape Oliver, who rammed inn that other end of the green-spotted dildo (which of course did nothing without being noisily harmonious), and obtained groan from the owner of the HH (hind hole).
It had expanded, and was only rammed in an inch or so. He let it sit there for a moment, then pushed it out as slowly as he could, gazing intently at the widening asshole and the following body. She groaned loud, and almost screamed, but then it popped out. She fell, resting. Enough of dildos, the gentle reader might say, and indeed Oliver errected his eelstick and acted in imitation of the dildo, only, to be sure, with far greater vehemence, which, as was evident from the way his face looked, had its origin in passion, the object of which was a tight, tight rectal corridor of pungent pleasure.
The tinging sensation of closed ass penetrated his brain, and it called forth all his memories of prickdicks up his own snug assway. And that, to be sure, drove him crazy. No more of all those gentle strokes, allass. He squeezed his eel in wiggling, and she whimpered plaintively in response. When it mixed up, he was mixed up, and felt how the heat rose, not cooled by water, and fueled by sperm. The flames and friction grew, and he had to apply more kitchen lubrication.
Then, the onslaught came. He went all the way in, trapping his balls in the cleft. Back and forth in the innermost places he rolled and rocked, and his female with him, who was driven to next of insanity. Just a second, he thought, and You will be filled with my quum. No, just wait, She thought, and flipped them all over, back, so he fell down on his back. As a victorious cat, she thrust her ass mass down on him with full force, taking him by sheer surprise.
The would-be victorious man became the object of a tenacious Vicotoria's ploy: the semen was sucked out of him by the diligent muscles of her buttocks, and he screamed in pain, for the mass rubbed his penis plungingly, extracting the orgasm out of him as if to tranfer it. She squealed in pleasure, exploding slowly at the exploit, decibelling his ears. Pound, pound, pund, thump, gnaw. That was too much for poor Oliver, that stately male, who came in a whimper, screwed red and blue by his object's tight, firm ass. He saw her hole afterwards, finely lined with qum, hovering in the air for a minute. Then he understood. It crushed onto his nose and slid, and he was licking it out for that cat, for her enjoyment. Shit happens.
It was an unresistable temptation, to use a vulgar phrase. Oliver grabbed a smallish dildo, buttered it carefully, applied it to the fine line between her buttocks. He stroked it gently upwards and downwards, leisurely, watching the bulge proceed parallel to the dildo. The dildo, white with small green spots, flexed lightly under the feeble pressure, and promptly emitted small squeaks after each change of direction (it was the latest in creative sex toys).
She writhed more now, emitting her own sounds, accompanying the Harmonious Flexidildon (Green model). Twitiching buttocks — that had to be a good sign. Hesitating for one moment, Oliver nevertheless decided to use this kairos. With an intense movement (in all simplicity of course), he pressed the round butt of the Flexidildon against her contracted asshole. Resistance and a groanie. Oliver let go, and put more butter on the Flexi. Massaging the rectum area gently with the fingers of his left hand he acheived the feinte effect he had hoped for. She shot her back, relaxed. The moment did not escape Oliver, who rammed inn that other end of the green-spotted dildo (which of course did nothing without being noisily harmonious), and obtained groan from the owner of the HH (hind hole).
It had expanded, and was only rammed in an inch or so. He let it sit there for a moment, then pushed it out as slowly as he could, gazing intently at the widening asshole and the following body. She groaned loud, and almost screamed, but then it popped out. She fell, resting. Enough of dildos, the gentle reader might say, and indeed Oliver errected his eelstick and acted in imitation of the dildo, only, to be sure, with far greater vehemence, which, as was evident from the way his face looked, had its origin in passion, the object of which was a tight, tight rectal corridor of pungent pleasure.
The tinging sensation of closed ass penetrated his brain, and it called forth all his memories of prickdicks up his own snug assway. And that, to be sure, drove him crazy. No more of all those gentle strokes, allass. He squeezed his eel in wiggling, and she whimpered plaintively in response. When it mixed up, he was mixed up, and felt how the heat rose, not cooled by water, and fueled by sperm. The flames and friction grew, and he had to apply more kitchen lubrication.
Then, the onslaught came. He went all the way in, trapping his balls in the cleft. Back and forth in the innermost places he rolled and rocked, and his female with him, who was driven to next of insanity. Just a second, he thought, and You will be filled with my quum. No, just wait, She thought, and flipped them all over, back, so he fell down on his back. As a victorious cat, she thrust her ass mass down on him with full force, taking him by sheer surprise.
The would-be victorious man became the object of a tenacious Vicotoria's ploy: the semen was sucked out of him by the diligent muscles of her buttocks, and he screamed in pain, for the mass rubbed his penis plungingly, extracting the orgasm out of him as if to tranfer it. She squealed in pleasure, exploding slowly at the exploit, decibelling his ears. Pound, pound, pund, thump, gnaw. That was too much for poor Oliver, that stately male, who came in a whimper, screwed red and blue by his object's tight, firm ass. He saw her hole afterwards, finely lined with qum, hovering in the air for a minute. Then he understood. It crushed onto his nose and slid, and he was licking it out for that cat, for her enjoyment. Shit happens.
posted by jiannolus at 1:00 PM
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