Ice-cream is how they make love
With luxurious flavour
They take small spoonfuls of each other
Let their sex melt into sticky pleasures
Hate is how they fuck
Snarl their want
Malicious waistline rotations
Their sex is beautiful passion
Red is the colour of their love
It is fire
It is dangerously deep
It is royal
Their love is the colour of hope
Moon is how he makes her cum
Her release shifts tides
Their climax is majestic
Change into carnal beings
Their sex is orbits the plant of their love
Car is their love
A Vechicle that carries them on their journey
Fuelled by communication
Insured with honesty
They travel over all terrains
Through all weather
Their love is a car
Taking them on their journey
So a fan read my Eva story and decided she’d do her own version based on yours truly (i’m very flattered). Her name is MissBehaviour and this is her story.
It was almost a blur, and I say that in the sense of my eyes rolling back into my head, where I was able to see an astral plane of immense pleasure, bright stars, masterful galaxies and acknowledgment of being at one with the grand universe.. centered through the pulsating walls of my moistened vagina. I sh*t you not. My loins seem to know the meaning of life! My waves of orgasmic pleasure, intrigue, heightened sense of adventure and sexual expression has not been invigorated so profusely until as of recent, and I am one to have experienced a number of adventures, but nothing quite like this… Read more…
Eyes filled with surrender. Disbelief. Questioning. Confused worry. You blink, head leans back. You return to your gaze to me. Face changed. Now filled with angry passion. Vexed lust. Vengeance dances in your pupils. Carnal. Teeth gritted. Intent on reciprocating. One stroke and it is replaced. Reverts back. Submission. Incredulity. You know this moment to be real yet wonder. Amazed. Beseech that it be endless. Plead. Fluctuating decibels. Disjointed breath. Staccato dialog. Slow waistline rotation. Jagged gasp escapes. Joyful reverence. Deep stroke. Wince. Hiss. Hum a song of pleasurable bliss. request more. demand it.
Your mouth opens.
Volcanic cloud of sound explodes skywards.
Dark ash of sudden pending release fills the room.
Beg for release.
My fingers move in slow motion against your walls.
Press against your spot.
Dumbstruck by shudders.
Mahogany carved sculpture.
You are art.
Push into delicate walls.
Push, yet hold you.
Imprisoned in full body spasms.
Beg for release.
Decline your request.
I control your orgasm.
here is a compilation of the many wonderful sounds and ways women reach orgasm. the sounds, the expression, the emotion is simply the sexist sound ever. enjoy
I love how you call out his name
Call out to him for forgiveness
Plead for mercy
Beseech to stay in this pleasurable sin
Snarl his name
Your tone coarse
How you sing it
Lift your voice up on high
How you exhale hard
Pronounce his name between gasps
Drag it out from the pit of your belly
Let it grate against your vocal cords
How it spills out your mouth
Love how it is preceded with profanity
How you say his name like a question
Call it out like a revelation
Scream it out wanting confirmation
Say it like a mantra
Mediate on it
I love how it pops out your mouth
Changes pace each time you say it
Fast and sudden
Slow and drawn out
Rises and falls in staccato octaves
Love how vowel sounds trail after it
Expressed with raw emotion
Whispered under short breaths
How you say it with strength
Moan it with full body conviction
Mumble it with weak surrender
Say it with disbelief
I love how when we sex you moan
Eroticnoire’s four and half hour slowjams mix …
its a sexathon session mix.