Tell Me What She’s Like Pt. 02

Anal

She was right. The raw satisfaction of providing pleasure with your mouth was overwhelming. Your girlfriend knew how to suck your cock in exactly the right way, but the feeling of having your mouth used by her was better than that had ever been. You wanted her to tell you more, but you weren’t about to give up this incredible feeling to do something as pointless as talk.You could say much, much more like this. Thankfully, she obliged you.

“When I look down at her, she’s on her knees, her ass is up in the air for me.” You shifted up from the position on your side, one hand still gripping your cock. You arched your back and lifted your hips up for her. Her words came between heavy breaths. “She loves to show that fat, curvy ass off. The way it looks, the way it moves, the way it feels when she offers it up for someone.” Goddamn did it feel right. You could perfectly picture it – you could imagine how it must be to be that girl, to have that incredible ass. To have someone touch it in a way no one had ever touched yours. The hand rubbing your cock let go and slid around your hip, up onto your ass.

Holy shit, you were horny. antep escort So horny you were delusional – under your hand, it felt like you *did* have the girl’s ass. It felt smooth and soft and jiggly and *so fucking big*. You squeezed it and moaned into your girlfriend’s pussy. Your hand – a man’s hand, a strong hand – felt so natural grabbing your ass. You shook it, and your ass cheek bounced happily. You raised your ass up even further, placing both hands down on either side of her for balance, and you started to wiggle those hips – the hips that felt wide and womanly. Your ass cheeks literally *clapped*.

You did not anticipate getting so into this that you felt like the girl herself. You just expected some spicy dirty talk.

You looked up at your girlfriend – her eyes were still closed, and she was still talking. You wished she would look down and see what a good show you were putting on for her. “She has an incredible figure. Her waist is tiny, her thighs are thick, her legs are long and smooth.” Again, it’s almost like she as describing you – your body didn’t feel like a man’s in the moment. gaziemir escort “She knows how to use it, how to show it off. She’s wearing thigh-high stockings that hug her legs tight enough that just a tiny bit of those thick thighs spills over the top. Jesus Christ, honey, I am so glad you made me admit this. I have wanted to fuck a girl for so long. Talking about it… I have never been so horny in my entire life. Boys are fun, and I love your cock, but sometimes all I can think about are tits and ass and pussy.”

You nodded vigorously – with your tongue deep in her pussy, it made her shudder and her legs shake. At this point, you were certain that something strange was going on – did you actually have on thigh-highs? You wanted to look, to feel, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from worshipping at the altar of your girlfriend’s pussy, and you needed your hands to steady yourself if you were going to keep shaking your ass. The sensation of your fully exposed asshole made you feel so wonderfully vulnerable – how would it feel to explore that? To work one of your fingers back into your gaziosmanpaşa escort own slutty, needy desperate little hole? Or maybe something even bigger? Your girlfriend’s small stash of buttplugs and dildos sounded amazing. Your rock-hard cock bounced around beneath you, slapping against your tummy and your beautiful thighs, leaking all over the bed. In your stomach, a lovely warmth was pooling, a depth of sexual pleasure and libido that was new to you.

“Do you know what my favorite thing about her is, though?” You were so entranced by the way your body felt that you didn’t even think to respond. “Hello? If I asked this slut a question,” your girlfriend began, her voice firm, disappointed; she still hadn’t opened her eyes to see you, to see whatever was happening to you. She continued, “she would respond. What do you think my favorite thing about her is?”

For the first time in – you didn’t know, but it felt like *days* – you took your desperate little pussy-eating mouth and used it to form words. You pitched your voice up for her, and it sounded *convincing*, even to you. “What’s your favorite thing about me, baby?” Saying ‘me’ – admitting to her what the game you were playing was, that you weren’t just talking about what she would like to do, but playing the role for her – sent a mutual wave of sexual escalation rocking across both of your bodies.

“My favorite thing about you is your perfect tits.”