Chapitre 2641: KEEPING WARM
n a less than ideally heated room, I watch as the ravages of winter take their toll. Their current goal is to devastate everything that can't find a shelter from its wrath. A combined force that hopes to be cleansing in its intent through whatever judgment that nature abides by. It rains torment across this land with a brutishness that seems like an unfair test to pass. But we're still here, so I guess we're performing well enough to continue our time on this planet.
Thankfully I have shelter in here. The best shelter that my meager paycheck can buy, but a shelter nonetheless. One that's not to be discounted as the ice storm rages just outside these walls. Though the chill makes its way into my place of rest despite my best efforts, I have ensured that there's enough warmth to keep me in a state that's akin to comfort. And fortunately, I have a secret weapon in my campaign against the cold.
I have her to aid me in the battle to keep warm. Her, who is currently watching me, wondering when I'm going to make my way back into her arms. Waiting enticingly, showcasing the attributes that make here such an object of desire. All to ensure I make my way back to her in as much haste as possible.
Already disrobed I make my way into the bed to lie against her equally naked body. The shame and embarrassment that has been imposed on our flesh by outside forces has given way to a comfort and even a relish in being able to display ourselves openly in such a manner. Breast size has ceased to become an issue even though there was never anything to complain about in the first place. My abs and muscles, while still nice, lie in the past as part of the enticements that allowed this coitus to begin in the first place.
With there being no way to spend any time outside, I join her in our little purgatory that we're going to try to make into a little bit of heaven. I crawl my way back into her good graces and she welcomes me wholeheartedly. We just bask in each other's comfort for a bit, not hurrying the inevitable that awaits before us.
The warmth of her skin is bolstered by her expertise in blending her many fragrances and lotions into the aroma that currently graces her. A smell that's beyond enticing, almost numbing in regards to what little reticence I may have left in my system. It awakens my wants in a rapturous manner, giving a voice to them and listening keenly as they divulge their intent.
My erection grows without any intention on my part. It's just a natural occurrence, one that's pointing me in a direction I very much want to go. It finds its way onto my lover's thigh through no effort of my own, a byproduct of the physical contact we are currently sharing. She recognizes what this outgrowth signals and is more than happy to play along.
She takes my member into her hands with guileless enthusiasm. She strokes it almost absentmindedly, all the while knowing what a disproportional effect her strokes have on my end. Sometimes an efficient and focused technique is called for in matters related to sex. Other times whimsy and leisure is the best strategy.
A playful touch, the kind that's not a slave to technique. One that wants to go beyond the bounds of what's been tried and tested and instead promises new wonders beyond the horizon. That's what she's bringing to me. A sexual experience that's not beholden to what came before it. A new beginning in a relationship full of them. A chance to explore each other's wants and desires in a fresh approach.
What I had mistakenly thought would be a standard act of sexual congress now holds the promise of something more in her intoxicating presence. One that makes me forget about the hardships that are currently occurring outside in favor of the soft touches that are found indoors. As her grasp around my loins holds me in a limbo of neither deflation nor sweet release, I find my breath taking a life of itself. No way could I recreate the soft rapture and quiet ecstasy that my respiration weaves throughout the air without the guiding influence of my lover's hand.
The forces of control and subjugation find a rare axis to meet in this act we're both ensconced with. Two dualities find a mixture in each other's arms. The giver and the receiver, the man and the woman, the lover and the loved, the pursuer and the pursued, the patron and the matron, I and her, she and me. All of these are words used to differentiate the two of us. But words have no domain in the act we're partaking in. Our boundaries are going to get a little hazy.
The immiscible becomes miscible when the two of us are close in this way. The man and woman divide becomes a little hazy when we're together. A lack of certainty as to who's feeling what permeates our activities and to be honest we don't care in the slightest. It all feels so natural, so why not let nature take its course and let whatever worries we may have just wash away while we enjoy what the physical world has in store for us.
She could be credited for this narration as well as I, for she is the co-author in these sensations I'm feeling. And someone ought to award her a Pulitzer. She can write me a happy ending and give me a satisfying journey along the way too. What arcs she can craft, what twists she can introduce. All with the proficiency she shows with her body in conjunction with mine.
I move my lips to her while taking care to leave ample room for her hand to continue to stroke me. We have a two-pronged approach when it comes to touching, One point of contact from above, another in a much lower place. My own hand makes its way to her opening, slightly stroking the rift. Taking a moment or two to simply let her enjoy the warmth radiating off of my palm and onto her entryway.
A loud bash of snow hitting the window is heard but not noticed by the two parties in the room. How could we pay attention to such inconsequential things given what's occurring between us? It's going to take much more than that to awake either one of us from our enrapturement. Life or death have to be at stake before anything can hope to break us from our bonds.
I slip a finger inside of her softly to further our foreplay. Though actual penetration may be our finish line that doesn't mean we're in a race or anything. Smooth, fast, any way we like it. Time is not of the essence as we serenely touch the other in ways we save for our most intimate partners. Infringing on the other's most private areas in the most welcoming manner possible.
Around and around, I make my way into her most interior of interiors. A wetness slowly forms around my hand, making me confident that I am touching her in a most enjoyable manner. Up and down I go, letting the big pleasures wait until I get to the nub that rocks her world. I want to warm a girl up before I take her to the outer reaches of ecstasy.
Our tongues continue to intertwine in conjunction with our hands exploring the other's nether regions. Though the latter may incite the most reaction in our bodies, it's not wise to discount the former. A romantic act that we've all been inducted into by storybooks from our childhood is what it is. Once presented to us as simple and romantic, our kissing has had more lascivious connotations attached to it. A lasciviousness that we can both share, one in which any power imbalance immediately corrects itself to a stable equilibrium.
A most unhygienic act made sensual by the two people performing it. Kissing in many different combinations in order to find the right one, and once that combination is found, we move onto another in hopes of recreating the sensation in yet another way. We're trying to add a plethora of kisses into our accumulation of them. An engaging game we play with our mouths, trying to best the other in terms of who can express the most passion through kissing alone. A competition in which we never keep score. All that matters is that we push the other to become the most present, passionate and engaged that they can when it comes to our sexual activities.
And so we challenge the other in a game that leaves us both winners. Her strokes now include my tip in the most gratifying of ways. She uses my precum as a lubricant on an area that may emit pleasure or pain in a moment's notice. Thankfully I'm on the pleasure side of that divide under her caring touch.
Mirroring her own efforts, I press my finger on her clit to a shocked but not completely surprised gasp on her part. She knew I'd eventually make my way up to there, she just didn't know when. Yet it's a pleasurable shock, the one that gets her system really in gear. Her crotch begins grinding against my hand to see if any effort on her part can make the pleasure deeper. Judging by the newfound tenacity in her breaths, it does.
Her hand speeds up its rugged caress of my member. Thankfully I can last a while or else her hand might've very well done me in. It'll take more than that to get me squirting. So I just enjoy the sensations her traction is causing me without worrying about me lasting. I'm sure her hand will get tired before issues of longevity make their way into the act.
Sure enough her hand leaves me and she shakes it around to try and relieve herself from whatever cramps may have occurred. It was fun while it lasted and I'm glad she was able to push through some of the pain on my behalf. Still though, I want this to be an enjoyable experience for the both of us.
So I take my hand out of her and we both sit up and look at each other in the dim light, just taking a tiny break to be with the other. The snow beats on as we wait to see who will make the first move. I'm still hard; no way am I getting soft around her naked body without finishing the deal. Yet the tension that's caused by anticipation sustains, a tension that becomes almost pleasurable as it allows me to think about the many possibilities that could happen. A world of potential springs forth in this empty space between us. What sensual delights can we partake in? What paths could the next contact lead to? This world will close itself off to me when decision time comes, but hopefully the reality will be even better than the fancied.
Suddenly, she makes the decision for me. She lowers herself down to my engorged member and takes me in her mouth. Slow at first, letting me acclimate to the sensation of her warm, wet tongue devoting itself to my most sensitive outreach. Then she begins descending even more, sluggish in her pace, making every centimeter count. Leaving me in a present in which the sheer amount of pleasure I'm receiving overrules the concepts of past and present. Trapping me in a moment I'm completely ecstatic to be trapped in.
And then she works her way down to as far as she can go without discomforting herself. This is where speed comes into the equation. Still slow but minutely faster, she makes her way up in the opposite direction, with her tongue somehow finding its way across the entirety of the surface area that makes up my dick. When she reaches her highest point she begins her descent once more, making sure her tongue guides the way in as enticing a manner possible.
With me fully acclimated to the pleasures she can doll out with her mouth, she commences with the momentum. A lowering and raising so loving that I only need to look into her eyes to confirm that it's there. She plays me like a fiddle and the exact sound of her liking comes out of my mouth to her tuning of choice. My face is contorted into a picture that she probably wishes she could hang up on her wall as proof of her sexual expertise.
All throughout my body, a tingly feeling occurs. In between numb and sensory overload, my body finds itself. It appears to be having trouble containing the pleasures she can give. My movements are not entirely my own; my hands are shaking because my brain is incapable of completely processing the sensations that she is supplying me with.
Control proves to be overrated as my eyelids flicker in time with the momentum of her mouth. I'm half looking up at the plain dark ceiling to further avoid any further unnecessary visual stimuli that may cause me to overload. Probably not the most graceful of faces, but even Gene Kelly would break down if he were to experience this.
Something comes out of me, not the fluids you're thinking of, but something intangible. Something that raises out of my being. Is this a spiritual experience or just me having trouble processing my sensations? Who's to say? I'm certainly no longer a reliable narrator, what with her mind bending pleasure that I can't even begin to describe.
If this really was a competition, well then the scorecard would be imbalanced enough to fall off the board as it's going to take a miracle to come back from this. Do I even want to? I may sincerely take her up on an eternity spent in this state if that were possible.
Fortunately or unfortunately, not even she is powerful enough to keep this up for very long. So back to Earth I return, panting and trying to ground myself once more. Not for long though, because the next target of my affections becomes apparent. Fair is fair, so it's only right that I return the favor, give her a taste of her own medicine so to speak. And what a medicine it is. It really is the cure for whatever sexual frustration or inadequacy one could feel. If you could bottle up what I just experienced and sell it as an antidepressant, then the drug company selling it would have enough cash to buy the Smithsonian.
The female vagina, a puzzle to be solved. I guess women have a bit of a head start in the challenge I'm about to embark on because of their intimate familiarity with it. I'm just glad that straight is the way the majority swings so that way I get a chance to learn and grow instead of all the ladies leaving the licking to the fairer sex. But sometimes the inexperienced eye can find an insight or two. Go to places they don't know they're not supposed to tread and find hidden delights along the way.
So it's there where I lower myself. I want to see if I can in any way shape or form repay the breathtaking pleasure that she bestowed upon me back. I slow down on descent, letting my warm breath tease the pleasures that are about to unfold for her. She desirously awaits my warm tongue inside the very core of my being. But for now, my warm breath vaporizing against the skin that surrounds her most erogenous of zones will have to do.
Taking my time I intently close the distance between my mouth and her lower hole. My lips wrap around it, gently massaging her wavering quim. All in my own time, I don't want to jump the gun, do I? No, it's the buildup of anticipation that I seek. To reach the peak in which she can't wait anymore and then deliver on the promises that my nonverbal mouth is making.
And so the time comes to get my tongue in on the action. Out from my mouth it goes and onto the outer folds of her opening. Slowly my tongue makes its way around the clock euphemism that I'm employing and with it, her breaths start to become much shallower and more inconsistently paced. I'm really breaking her out of her rhythm, so to speak.
Yet these are just surface pleasures. The real fun will come when I make my way into her inner folds and then her nub. Yes, even after this great start more enticing prospects await. However, I choose to be happy with what I have right now. The ability to taste her most sensual skin and to unhurriedly make my tongue across her most intimate parts.
Swaying, my tongue circumscribes the exterior of her opening, leaving no exterior untouched. Round and round, up and down my tongue goes in equal measure. Like a paintbrush my tongue intently sweeps against her on this area that it's decided to make it's canvas.
But once the backdrop is completed it's time to delve into her lower depths. Rigid is how I make my tongue in order to better peruse her extent. I lower myself even more into her being, like a submarine getting ready to explore the ocean depths. I reach in using my tongue. With what little movement I have I twist and turn my tongue around, ensuring that she feels the full extent of the contact it can bring.
Somehow the high sense of pleasure that I have managed to instill in her only becomes higher the further into her being I go. But even with so much to motivate there's only so far my tongue can go into her. A tongue is many things, but it's not long. And besides, I don't want to wear out my tongue doing a facsimile parody of penetration, especially when I have better tools to do that at my disposal.
Instead, I move my tongue to other pastures. Using my two fingers to pry open her upper folds, my tongue finds its way to her clit and begins its final descent. A nudge is the only action I need to make her gasp at first but I know that soon enough her standards will increase. Luckily, I'm more than able to meet them.
But while the going is easy I just rest my tongue on her clit, at least for now. I let the warmth and moisture that radiates off of my appendage do most of the work for me. Work smarter, not harder as they always say. Now don't get me wrong, there will come a time in which effort is key. But for now why not lie back and let undemanding pleasures unfold?
Her breaths tell the tale of someone who is feeling deep pleasure throughout her being. One that not only physical sensations can account for. For deep inside her are feelings of comfort, contentment and affection that join forces with these more visceral sensations. Her interior and exterior worlds collide in such a staggering manner that she has little choice but to continue to subject herself to my ample pleasures. Thankfully it's a choice that she is more than happy to agree to.
In her posture of relaxed repose, a tenacity has invaded her. Starting from my tongue and making its way into her innermost being, this euphoria has infected her, puppeteering her every move. And her movement is quasi-stillness, preferring to lie back and let my mouth take ahold of her.
And so I begin my movement around her clit. A circular motion if there ever was one. Careful not to cut my tongue on my teeth, I make my tongue as straight as it can be and serenely carry my tongue across the small little bump from which she seems to derive so much pleasure from in a counterclockwise formation.
I take great care to maintain a consistent pace as my tongue rolls around her pleasure epicenter, not too fast and not too slow either. She is able to predict what location she expects to find my tongue and when, but not exactly what sensations she'll feel. In my quest to pleasure her contentedly I'm revealing that even she doesn't know the half of what her body can feel. Somewhat familiar, yet hard to predict sensations find their way into her being, all the while deriving pleasure from them.
A mix of the known and unknown is what's driving her various gasps and moans, with me serving as the bandleader. Though we have done this act many times before and will hopefully continue to do so long afterwards, every time seems to bring about somewhat distinct sensations. A lick on her clit could feel one way on a given day and fairly different the next given the surrounding circumstances.
Yet that just makes it all the more fun. A new surprise awaiting for every encounter we have. And believe me, we have a lot of encounters. However, they never seem to be repetitious. How could they be when we have the sight of a naked man and a naked woman that has long been kept from society's visage coming together to express love, lust, enjoyment, gratification, sensuality, commonality, dissimilarities, connection, divisions, traction, embracement, fun and all the wonderful sensations sex can provide to them on their own terms? And how lucky we are to be the naked man and woman in question.
So I continue on with my work, knowing that although the pleasure I receive from enrapturing her in this way cannot even begin to compare with what she's feeling, it's still enough to keep me motivated while I double my efforts on her. My tongue continues its resolution to stimulate her clit in the most euphoric manner possible. Running laps against its surface, trying to keep up the pace.
Until suddenly she cums and it's over for now. I get a taste of her sweet cum juices as a reward for my efforts. Lapping up what I can, I move my head away from the place I long to be; at least for a moment. It isn't long before she jumps onto me though, returning the passion that I showed her, which in turn was a reaction to the passion she showed me. A feedback loop is what we find ourselves in, one that we happen to enjoy very much.
I find her lying on top of me now, relishing her chance to be the aggressor in all of this for a change. She is softly but passionately kissing me, letting gravity guide her toward my welcoming mouth. Letting her lips make their way around mine before pulling herself up for a moment and then letting the whole process start over once more.
Taking a break from the wheel for a moment, I let her kisses fall on me. Just absorbing every single one to the fullest extent that I can. I don't see my erection leaving me anytime soon; no reason to worry about it getting flaccid on me. So I can take a little time to just enjoy the many splendors her lips have to impart on mine.
But then it becomes time to make my own move. Slowly but firmly, I motion that it's time to roll over. She follows suit and then I'm back to being the one on top of her. My gaze finds its way into her eyes and she returns my glance. Staring into each other's eyes in such dim light, my imagination mixes with reality. I'm not sure where my projection ends and her likeness begins. Yet I know for a fact that she's beautiful on the inside and out, so why let questions of reality bother me?
I take a moment to feel my skin against hers, really feel it. Feel the warmth and tenderness it brings me. God, her skin is so much softer than mine. I guess that's one of the perks of being a woman, the ability to impart such sensations with just a touch. I lower my head onto her body to cuddle against a smoothness that I will never know on my own. To feel it for just a moment.
I feel as if there's something else pulling me towards her though. A magnetism, though weak, exists within ourselves. If you put one hand over your other one you can feel it attracting and repelling in equal measure. Not a strong force but one that does exist. Some of the more frivolous spiritual guides of today will bolster its importance and tell you that the root of all destiny comes from magnetism. Choose your mentors carefully, as I always say.
Nevertheless, we are made out of atoms, atoms that attract one another. They make up the formula for our bodies. They are in fact at this very moment repelling me from this lovely woman as I try to get as close to her as possible. Keeping the boundaries between the two of us separate in our quest for more.
And so the push - pull happens, us trying to fight the physical confines of our bodies with the very fabric of our beings pushing the two of us apart. A struggle that accounts for some of the friction we enjoy that helps find some sort of peace between the yin and yang for the two of us. Though akin to a Sisyphean task, we touch, stroke, caress, rub, grind, fondle, invade, probe, cuddle, graze and enter each other in a myriad of ways to see just how much we can get our physical barriers to part. If Sisyphus had this as his task I'm sure that his stay in Hell would've gotten a whole lot more heavenly.
Thankfully, biology has left an opening for me to slip inside of her. If this is as close as the two of us can be, then I'll take it. Her threshold is about to receive a more than invited guest as I aim my member into its depths. Thankfully my erection is still with me. This next step would be a lot less pleasurable for the both of us if it weren't.
Her hand grabs a hold of my member to help guide me into her as I lower my crotch onto hers. Slowly I ease myself onto her as she has total control over where she wants to put me. I'm very grateful it's to the place where I want to go to be. The interplay between me and her reaches a crescendo as my tip touches her outer lips. The acceptance to beat all other acceptances awaits me, as my fully engorged cock takes a plunge of great caliber.
Her warmest of warmths greets my erection, one that has the full advantage of her interior body heat to warm it up. And with wetness too, both of these combined forces make me feel so wonderful. I can only hope that she's experiencing a tenth of the pleasures that I am currently facing, and this is all without any traction on my part.
I enter her depths to her underbelly, this is as low as I can go. Luckily, this is more than deep enough for her. She's not keeping track of inches at this point, she's just taking me in to her fullest extent and feeling the sensations that my rock hard dick gives her. And with a smile on her face that tells me that length, although I'm not lacking in that department, is not a top five concern for her.
There's no traction at this point. The sex is basically tantric right now. Oh don't get me wrong, we're going to get up to speed at some time but for now, why not just let the two of us revel in this newfound intimacy no matter how motionless it might be? Me in her, her taking me in, not sure who the dominant party is when we're both such winners here.
Not everything about sex has to be physical. Though it is by definition a physical activity we are currently engaged in, there is more to it beyond movement. There are the two parties at the center of it all to consider and what their intention is. My own intention is to find a space of mutualism, one in which both of our desires can bloom equally. We can explore our desires in equal measure and then rejoice when we find an overlap. Find where her enjoyment begets my enjoyment and bring each other to sexual highs that we never would've experienced alone. I'm sure that she has a similar intention. Some overlap on the Venn Diagram that we have, huh?
And with that in mind, I begin to pull out of her slightly, providing myself with the room I need to thrust back into her. This is where traction begins to find its footing in this act. Her warm, wet folds brush up against me in a most exquisite manner. I can only hope that she feels the same.
But still slowly, I go to get the right amount of acclimation in order. I don't want to go beyond my means just yet. It's just slow, smooth, leisurely strokes for now, letting the two of us transition into the velocity that's about to occur. This will be the base that we'll build our exhilaration on, the leisurely paced movements will give way to rapidly paced pumps that will then, in turn, find their way into the very core of her being.
So faster now I make my way in and out of her, still not hitting my speed up to the max. In and out I go with a steady rhythm that finds intervals to increase on. It may be moderate for now, but eventually, it'll build on top of itself and we'll find me ramming into her and her riding the waves with everything she's got.
Her, who can take the brunt of my sexual urges and not only endure them but take pleasure in them. Transform what has been looked upon as a burden by others and sometimes myself into something wonderful that we can share. A physical desire that has catalyzed our relationship, allowed us to be bare before each other for no other reason than that its convenient when we consummate our love.
An act that has been shamed and ridiculed by so many of the leaders of today's world has found a loving home in the arms of our naked embrace. A force that has corrupted many a man who has come before me and even a woman too has instead shown us the way to more intimate heights. An almost purity flows through us as we embrace our most animalistic urges. No more hiding from our more baser instincts. It's time to parade them before one another and find we share the same desires.
This act of lovemaking is what we want. To leave more high minded pursuits in favor of comforting each other in our most carnal manners. The desires that are in us day in and day out find a welcome respite when I enter her most intimate of places. Our sexual parts that may not objectively look aesthetically pleasing cause thirst when seen in our heightened, hopped up on hormones gazes. Objectivity finds no home here, and why would it when we're so concentrated on our shared pleasure to try and figure out what should be what?
We're interlocked in the act that created the two of us. An act to create life whose purpose has been replaced in the name of intimacy and pure pleasure. Not the supposed lust that is frowned upon in the Bible and would be expected of two young people such as ourselves. No, a closeness and a relish in that closeness is what we're aiming for, and we've aimed well. We've hit our target successfully. We receive gratitude in the ways we can pleasure each other and ourselves simultaneously.
And so I speed up, bringing my pulse up with me. My heart is responding in the appropriate manner, pumping the blood and even some adrenaline into all the places they need to be. Preparing myself for my descent into sexual voraciousness. My pumps come much quicker than usual; let's see if I can't just increase them even further.
Faster and faster I go, directly into her welcoming opening. A need for speed is what overcomes the two of us. A velocity that we both hope will carry us away into the outer reaches of what sexual pleasure can entail. With my speed, I try to impart a passion that will enwrap her both physically and mentally and help bolster the perceptions that she views this fornication through.
The fun of sex has been reclaimed by us in the midst of all the judgment, fear, and ideology that surrounds the concept. An act fit for adults has found an almost childlike sense of glee between the two of us. The simple pleasures of me inside her come to the forefront, exposing themselves in our own inundated gazes. Though deeper feelings dwell under the surface, the extremes that entail such intimacy abound in between our two bodies.
Ah, seriousness, a chore that's best left for other matters. Not necessary for the bliss that comes with me being buried in her most succulent of pleasures. A lightness of touch could do wonders here, one that upholds the rules of consideration though. Respect and elation can exist under the same roof. Why not let these two roommates co-mingle and co-habitate and help power our journey through such blissful regards?
Floating is what it feels like, even though gravity has its fair share to play in our coitus. An abandonment of everything that isn't the two of us. Clothes, responsibilities, reality, burdens, others and more have no domain when the two of us are in such a state. Our focus becomes narrowed to the being that lies before us, with no distractions breaking through.
The intensity we bring to each other in such an act does nothing to hinder the joyousness of the occasion. No anxieties befall the other in our quest to please the other, we are powered by a pure desire to pleasure. We just assume that our aim is true and then envelop the other with everything we've got.
Pumping, thrusting, entering, exiting and filling her, I look down at her to a face that can barely contain the sensations that she is experiencing. Her mouth lights up in an instinctive and enervated O, one characterized by a complete lack of restraint on her part. She's just letting every feeling that currently inhabits her bubble up onto her face. And what feelings her face shows. I'm sure mine matches her's in that regard.
The intercourse that we're sharing means all the more thanks to the two parties present. I cannot imagine anyone else I would rather be making love to in her stead. She is the dream I have always dreamt. The ideal I have always reached out for and now that she's in my grasp I am content to stay with her. No other mountain to climb would be as sweet as the peak that I have here in my arms.
A small grandiosity lies between our two pleasure centers, two such different parts combining to make such a propellant whole. Made all the better by just how deep these sensations cut. All powered from my thrusts into her very being, a motivating factor that would make such an otherwise repetitive act ecstatic.
The differences in each other bring about a singularity, different pleasures from the same source. Our disparate genitalia comes forth to make quite a pair. They make the bridge that connects her to me, a physical bond that allows intimate emotions to pass between the two of us. A connection so great that the idea of awkwardness, embarrassment and what other inhibitions one can think of become risible in the face of it.
Yet all things must come to an end. I can only go for so long. Well, why not try to transition this one into a new beginning? One that's catalyzed by the aftermath of my explosive bliss. We'll build a new base on top of my exquisite climax into her welcome opening. Another piece of evidence to add to our collection that this is a very loving relationship indeed. The intangible remnants of my orgasm will find a host in the two of us and infect us with their comfort.
And so I let the orgasm take ahold of me, envelop every sensation that exists across my physical manifestation. And then my penis begins its uncontrollable pump of my seed into her insides. Rapidly spraying my sperm into her welcoming opening. Though my seed will produce no fruit, the mere fact that I can inject her with such an intimate fluid shows the comfort and acceptance we have found in each other's arms
An act that is frequently looked down upon in disgust finds favor under her gaze. She is smiling all the while I unload in her. Happy to take every single drop of my seminal fluid into her. No thoughts to the societal connotations that my fluid has. Just gratification that I am comfortable enough to share it with her.
After that, I collapse onto her and slowly drive my deflating member out of her. She endures my weight in a gracious manner before I slowly roll off of her wordlessly. No words could ever compare to the sensations we've just felt. So we keep words out of it and just listen to each other's breaths.
Suddenly the sound of the wind and snow stops. I'm too tired to check and confirm visually if the snowstorm has stopped. Instead, I just lay beside my love and drift gently off to sleep. We may go outside tomorrow. Then again, maybe we won't. Maybe we'll just stay here in a place that no other warmth could hope to beat.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone