shivasshakti

There was sex on the beach and sex on the stairs and sex at the movies and sex on the couch and sex at work and sex on the couch at work. They were fucking, fast and furious and passionate and infinite, and nothing in the world mattered. Nothing there, nothing here, nothing then, nothing now. Nothing but his hardness and her wetness and their sweatiness and hard breath and hot blood and slippery skin and soft tongues and frantic grasps. He spread her legs, she sucked his fingers. She leaned back, he leaned forward.

And then they were outside under the sky half-expecting to be caught by an insomnia-wracked neighbor. Her hair tousled, his eyes half closed.

And then she was moaning and he was sighing and anyone could've heard but they only laughed about it later when it was clear that anyone did hear.

And then they were inside on a bed being proper and revelling in the tameness of it all. This is Tuesday night, they giggled. It was sweaty and fast and beautiful and nothing in the world mattered. Nothing there, nothing here, nothing then, nothing now. Nothing but this sinful perfection and that angelic dirtiness and those lusty glances and these flirty touches. It was all, it was nothing, it was chaos, it was perfection.



Tell me something interesting about yourself!