Hold me (when you)

I love when you
Hold me in your hands
Feel my weight
Coil your fingers around my girth
Squeeze gentle
Place my tip on the edge of your wetness
Ease yourself down
Slow
Guide me

Gymrotica: The power plate

Adebimpe Akingboye had been going to the gym since the start of the New Year. Like thousands of others she made a resolution to get in shape, be healthy and accomplish the summer body dream.
She planned to go Jamaica with the girls for the summer and wanted to be able to feel good about her figure and feel sexy. To ensure her goal was achieved she booked session with a personal trainer Darcus, Darcus Isaiah Clement Kennedy (dick, mr d.i.c.k). She had wondered if he lived up to his name during a couple of their sessions but never let it interfere with their profession relationship of client and trainer. That was until Darcus came to the gym, not in his usual tracksuit bottoms and hoodie, but shorts and vest.

Adebimpe saw him at reception and instantly it felt like a thunder storm and erupted between her thighs. Dark, deep, menacing clouds of lust formed. Winds of imagination started to howl and whistle through her mind. The air of her focus became moist and humid. Rain of fantasies where imminent but she was holding them back. She held them back until Darcus stepped from behind the desk and she saw his shorts and the thick, long outline of him embossed in the material of his shorts.

Oh Fuck Yes!

The first word conveys surprise
It is laces with disbelief
Compressed with sudden shock
Wrapped in astonishment
Carved from Incredulity
Sparkles with incomprehension
Obese with perplexity
Glazed with panic
Draped in disbelief

magician (the wand)

I am a captive audience
Front row seat to her performance
Baited breath sits on the edge of the seat of my excitement
Pulse gallops
Stampedes to the focal point
Offers a standing ovation even before she’s concluded her show
Tingles clap with exhilaration
Eyes are spotlights
Shine bright
All other concerns fall into the shadows
Her nib is centre stage
Swollen with silent confidence
The ebony curtains of her legs open

Fingers (his words)

Fingers – written by Eroticnoire

His words caress her
paint images between her thighs
Imagination unfolds
Blooms
As does her woman petals
She sits on her bed
Legs open
She is a book
Legs are pages
His words written in her mind
On the lines of her wetness

Self

Your sound loops
A stuck record of pleasure
Jumps
Skips
Moans that repeat
A rhythm stuck in a groove
Cadence melody
Harmonise
Staccato vocals
Breathe from your diaphragm
Fill your lung
Let them swell
Expand with the oxygen of pleasure

Fan mail: healing of her Yoni by MissBehaviour

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…