eelmaze

Phanaltasie

2005-08-02T13:00:00.000-07:00

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.

Moon

2005-08-02T06:59:00.000-07:00

Fascinating Obsession

2005-08-02T03:42:00.000-07:00

This is an obsession by Pierre Molinier.

Peeing Can Be Beautiful

2005-08-01T04:04:00.000-07:00

Just feel it! Marvellous.

Dark City Flesh

2005-08-01T03:59:00.000-07:00

Acrobatics.

2005-08-01T03:56:00.000-07:00

Worth thinking about... what does it feel like?

2005-07-31T15:40:00.000-07:00

Just ... for contemplation. Text later.

Shana and Grace III

2005-07-30T15:24:00.000-07:00

I opened the mirror and asked Grace to stand in front of it, with her back towards me. When I had finished licking down her back, I grabbed her pelvic bones from behind and dragged her down, so she almost fell. A Graceful smile, and a hard slap on the cheek, and, as I turned, a smack, as spanking, burning pain on my buttocks. I turned all around, and Shana put away the cane and installed the buttbreaker.

Grace turned me, got me down, and the rator slid into her wet, musty cunt. Noiselessly. Smack, Ouch, the cane — I shot forward, Ouch said Grace and shoved backwards, OW, that was the butt of the buttbreaker hitting my hole and rammed in deep. So back on Grace, who howled at the speed, and bounced back, ow, it was crazy, shaking, back forth oscillation, till I came as a ship fallen down in a wave, and, at the highest dale, when the sperm flooded the cunt, the Cane hit twice, three, four times, blood trickled and as I fell back, my feet went red.

Follow Up — Shana and Grace II

2005-07-30T15:23:00.000-07:00

Grace rode, rode, was a lift, and bounced. I could see her in the mirror, her facial expression twisted, fraught, ecstatic. Tight. Contracted. Bounce, and my nerves went on fire, squeezing in, trapped, my mouth hit by Shanas greater lips, odour filling nostrils, moan, and a flood of juice invading. Bounce, hit, off, on, squeeze, sneeze, atchoo, my God. Groaned off, and wet, sweat reeking. Stopit. O no, not over yet. Yet a squeeze

Shana and Grace I [As First Poor Tempt]

2005-07-30T15:05:00.000-07:00

Shana was standing behind grace, looking now over her shoulder, then under her arm, and then with her face hidden from view. Black glossy hair mingled with her, for her colour was black too, but not glossy. Grace's hand ploughed through the undergrowth, splitting the lips like cliffs, hiding her nails. Pure pleasure, I was sure. Shana brought round her hands and lightly touched. Nipple one popped, number two was left in suspense, until a trickle of saliva down from Grace's shoulder made this one too, number two, pop. Groan, moan shoan, Shana, who presently turned around, and stuck her bum forward between G-legs. Grace continued further down (naturally), and slid until, via the butt-hole, she reached S-vagina, and stopped. Spit, splat. And the first moisture was there. Smearing on, stop. Grace grabbed the carrot, and used that instead. Pure pleasure again, Shana went and stabbed, and whined. Pain. As for me, I was delighted.