June 29, 2009 § 3 Comments

Her feet arched against the hollow space of the stone alley entrance.

Her legs open and inviting.

Her pussy waiting for the gentle curve of a familiar tongue.

Breasts waiting for the rough feel of large manly hands.

She was desperate.

His hands already teasing the lines of her curves.

The sound of his deep laugh circling around her.

She knew him well.

The way that he worked her.

The small dirty words that he used against the arch of her neck.

She loved him.

Tiny pearls of wetness rolling down her thighs.

Her bottom pushing against the hard swell of his cock.

Begging quietly for him to push in to her deeply.

For his lips to meet hers harshly until they turned a sore shade of cherry red.

She wanted him.

Always like this.


© Copyright of Charlotte Thorpe



June 9, 2009 § 1 Comment

She couldn’t stop.

Her thoughts overwhelmed by the obsession of him.

Her hands needy at night when she laid in bed alone.

Lace and silk pushed aside.

Shadows playing against one another.

The only thing she wanted was the memorable feel of his skin.

His lips wrapped around hers.

The pleasure curled around her neck.

She couldn’t stop.

The memory of his fingers twisting between her thighs.

The rope holding her wrists.

Her obsession.

She needed him.

The taste of him against her tongue.

Underwear discarded.

She needed his cock to fill her entirely.

His hands pulling her to earth.

The feel of his tongue painting lines across the arch of her back, across the tiny threaded blue veins on the curve of her wrists.

She loved him.

Obsessed by the pleasure he gave.


© Copyright of Charlotte Thorpe

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