Wednesday, October 12, 2011

You are making a mess


He frowned at her. “You’re making a mess,” he stated coolly.
Her entire body tightened and blushed at him pointing it out, for saying it out loud. Saying that her panties were so dampened to the point of transparency. For drawing attention to the fact that she couldn’t stop the wetness from trickling out of her.
He fetched the mat in front of the laundry machine in the basement, the very same one their dog, as a puppy, had slept on. As he rolled her onto it, her stomach clenched and she felt another flood of wetness gush from her. He walked behind her so she couldn’t see him, but minutes later, she felt hot jets of his orgasm splattering on her body. She cried out, wishing she could see him stroke himself.
“Do you know how hard I get,” he murmured, “knowing you simply just can’t control yourself? That this body…” Another pulse of semen landed on her breasts. “This body just stays wet for me?”

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I'm a great cook, but you'll probably fall in love with me the day I set the stove on fire with my creme brulee. I can argue a case as well as a lawyer, but you'll fall in love with me because of the silly faces I make

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