TRIGGER WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF BREATH PLAY, CNC AND BREEDING WITHIN A CONSENSUAL DYNAMIC.
There is no poetry
No sweetness
With a fistful of hair
He holds her under
she thrashes
and splashes
and her gurgles bubble
to the surface
Splashing her slick wet ass
As she wrestles against him
It only drives her back
Cock splitting her slit apart
And burying within her further.
The thing is
He wants her to fight
As much he wants her body limp
To feel her fight leave her thighs
And her whimpering to end
He doesn’t know why
Her bubbling cries make him hard
He pushes in
Hoping the stones on the waterbed
Cut her cheeks
As he rips out of her trembling lips
only to slam right back in
And her pussy takes hold of Him
as if a part of her begs Him to stay.
Need and want stretches out as He stretches her
and folds around time and space
Until she flails once more
and grows still.
Only then does he wrench her
From her watery grave
And coats her sputtering lips
and rosy cheeks in his
Creamy
Thickened
Load.
The rest pumps into her stretched, fuzzy lips.
The best thing
that will ever happen to her
——
Happy New Year to the followers and readers passing by that find my blog. I wish you all a year of love, belly laughs and magical, beautiful memories to last a lifetime.
I’m starting this year with something dark and primal: a mood in my mind, running as a current ‘neath the bounds of my fantasies and stories and mood.
I hope you enjoy it. I hope it lingers. If it does, let me know. Say hi. I like when you say hi.