on his white horse?
“Cool, babe, he’s the one who wants to join in, is that ok with you?” he asks, a horny twinkle in his eye.
“Oh fuck yeah, I love being double teamed,” I say a little too chirpy for it to be true, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy picturing his buddy fucking me while I suck his cock or something.
“I knew you’d be down with it, I love that about you,” he says and pulls my face to rest on his chest. I lay there listening to his heartbeat, ignoring how hot and sweaty my head is getting, wild horses couldn’t drag me away from him right now. Miss fucking romance is what I’ve become. I mentally shake my head, to squash the cynic again long enough to close my eyes and follow the rhythm of the heart I wish I could claim.
After a moment or two I notice a tattoo in the inside of his upper arm. I hadn’t paid attention to it before, but now it catches my eye. It’s a beautiful swirling script and reads, dum spiro spero. I sit up and look at him, he jerks his eyes open and says “What?”
“Oh. My. God. You have a Cicero quote on your arm. You are such a geek!” I laugh and point at the tattoo.
He looks at it, flexes his bicep and says, “Oh that old thing? I’ve had it for a while, it’s one of my favourite quotes,” he grabs me and pulls me to him for a kiss. After we’re done crashing our lips together, sighing and breathing each other in…you know, all that romance novel shit, he pulls back and stares at me. His eyes narrow, a smile spreads slowly over his lips and he says, “Wait a minute, who’s the geek? How did you know it was Cicero?”
He’s got me; he might discover my secret intelligence after all. Shit. I giggle and shake my head, “I don’t know, I think they had it on an episode of America’s Next Top Model or something.”
He laughs and says, “Yeah, right,” and keeps looking at me in amazement, as if I’m a dog who just asked for the time.
I decide a distraction is in order, so I slide my hand down his rock hard abs, feeling the bumps and grooves of his delicious six-pack, and land on his cock. He grows hard immediately as I grasp his thick shaft. I love how responsive he is to me; it makes me feel powerful and sexy. “I can feel your pulse,” I laugh, letting the throbbing blood in his veiny cock keep time with my own beating heart. Pathetic, our hearts really are beating together. He runs his fingers along my shoulder blade as I shift to move towards his dick. I want to suck him, lick him and fondle his balls, squeeze them until I feel them tighten as he shoots his load down my throat. I’m a girl with a mission.
He thrusts towards my mouth; the head of his cock pushes past my lips and hits the back of my throat. I gag once then loosen up and let him face fuck me. I'm on my hands and knees, but drop to my elbows as he pumps upwards. He grabs a handful of my hair and locks me into place. I whimper and moan, signaling my own horny response at being used like cheap pocket pussy. A few quick strokes is all it takes, he throws his head back and moans, "Fuck, Jade, I love your mouth," and fills my throat with hot, bitter cum. He smokes too much weed. I can taste it in his spunk. I need to get him to eat more pineapple to sweeten his seed. I’m like the Iron Chef of ball batter. This is the fifth time I’ve drained him in less than twenty-four hours and he still produces a crazy amount of jizz. The stupid shit that impresses me, I really am a freak.
I look up at him, his face is the picture of satisfaction, but my body is on fire. The heat he stirs in me rises, I want him to finger my pussy, so I move my hips towards him. He gets the hint and plunges three fingers into my hole, no questions asked. My God I love this man, he really gets me.
I buck and twist at the end of his arm, he says, “Fuck yeah, you are such a little whore for me, aren’t you, babe?” I cry out in response, he slaps my ass hard, and surprisingly I like it. I
“Cool, babe, he’s the one who wants to join in, is that ok with you?” he asks, a horny twinkle in his eye.
“Oh fuck yeah, I love being double teamed,” I say a little too chirpy for it to be true, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy picturing his buddy fucking me while I suck his cock or something.
“I knew you’d be down with it, I love that about you,” he says and pulls my face to rest on his chest. I lay there listening to his heartbeat, ignoring how hot and sweaty my head is getting, wild horses couldn’t drag me away from him right now. Miss fucking romance is what I’ve become. I mentally shake my head, to squash the cynic again long enough to close my eyes and follow the rhythm of the heart I wish I could claim.
After a moment or two I notice a tattoo in the inside of his upper arm. I hadn’t paid attention to it before, but now it catches my eye. It’s a beautiful swirling script and reads, dum spiro spero. I sit up and look at him, he jerks his eyes open and says “What?”
“Oh. My. God. You have a Cicero quote on your arm. You are such a geek!” I laugh and point at the tattoo.
He looks at it, flexes his bicep and says, “Oh that old thing? I’ve had it for a while, it’s one of my favourite quotes,” he grabs me and pulls me to him for a kiss. After we’re done crashing our lips together, sighing and breathing each other in…you know, all that romance novel shit, he pulls back and stares at me. His eyes narrow, a smile spreads slowly over his lips and he says, “Wait a minute, who’s the geek? How did you know it was Cicero?”
He’s got me; he might discover my secret intelligence after all. Shit. I giggle and shake my head, “I don’t know, I think they had it on an episode of America’s Next Top Model or something.”
He laughs and says, “Yeah, right,” and keeps looking at me in amazement, as if I’m a dog who just asked for the time.
I decide a distraction is in order, so I slide my hand down his rock hard abs, feeling the bumps and grooves of his delicious six-pack, and land on his cock. He grows hard immediately as I grasp his thick shaft. I love how responsive he is to me; it makes me feel powerful and sexy. “I can feel your pulse,” I laugh, letting the throbbing blood in his veiny cock keep time with my own beating heart. Pathetic, our hearts really are beating together. He runs his fingers along my shoulder blade as I shift to move towards his dick. I want to suck him, lick him and fondle his balls, squeeze them until I feel them tighten as he shoots his load down my throat. I’m a girl with a mission.
He thrusts towards my mouth; the head of his cock pushes past my lips and hits the back of my throat. I gag once then loosen up and let him face fuck me. I'm on my hands and knees, but drop to my elbows as he pumps upwards. He grabs a handful of my hair and locks me into place. I whimper and moan, signaling my own horny response at being used like cheap pocket pussy. A few quick strokes is all it takes, he throws his head back and moans, "Fuck, Jade, I love your mouth," and fills my throat with hot, bitter cum. He smokes too much weed. I can taste it in his spunk. I need to get him to eat more pineapple to sweeten his seed. I’m like the Iron Chef of ball batter. This is the fifth time I’ve drained him in less than twenty-four hours and he still produces a crazy amount of jizz. The stupid shit that impresses me, I really am a freak.
I look up at him, his face is the picture of satisfaction, but my body is on fire. The heat he stirs in me rises, I want him to finger my pussy, so I move my hips towards him. He gets the hint and plunges three fingers into my hole, no questions asked. My God I love this man, he really gets me.
I buck and twist at the end of his arm, he says, “Fuck yeah, you are such a little whore for me, aren’t you, babe?” I cry out in response, he slaps my ass hard, and surprisingly I like it. I
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