"I want to give you a nice, long tongue bath," she invites.
Eagerly accepting her invitation, I straddle her head, lowering my pussy to her lovely lips. Looking down at this gorgeous angel with the devil's tongue, I watch her fake eyelashes flutter at me like the wings of a butterfly. She is an eager lover for sure. Her tongue finds its target with practiced ease as my pants fill the room. Oh my goodness! The delights of her mouth are plenty.
She tugs at my lips with her teeth, before thrusting her tongue inside to taste my cream. My hands grip the headboard as I grind my wet pussy against her lapping mouth. Her face will resemble a glazed donut by the time I am finished.
My eye catches movement from the side and I glance over to see her yardman watching us through the window. His hand no longer steers the mower. His spunk hits the window about the same time my cream coats her face.
I wrote the above passage yesterday after spying a young woman give another woman a lick of her ice cream cone. A lawnmower was cutting the grass in the park surrounding their picnic table. I couldn't resist stroking the valley between my legs as my dirty mind twisted this innocent incident into a quite naughty tale. Enter the life of an erotic writer.
Today, I sit in the nude. Not too surprising, I discovered it is the best uniform for my occupation.
Looking down, I smile seeing my perky breasts resting on top of the smooth desk. My mind wonders how long it will take for my pink nipples to harden and darken today. My fingers tap tap tap on the keyboard, signing in to my naughty little secret. Settling into a comfortable position, my naked ass slides easily on the leather chair. Soon, I will be wiping a wet spot off the seat.
The main requirement for my occupation might surprise you. You must have an imagination. And imaginations are like assholes - everybody has one. However, unlike assholes, imaginations can come in various shapes and sizes. For example, my imagination resembles a big, fat cock. Ideas flow down the veiny shaft and gather in the mushroom head before words spurt out the slit one-by-one forming a sexy sentence on a page. So, what do I do with my unusual gift, you ask? Well, I decided to use my dirty little mind to bring sexual pleasure to others.
Some put erotic writing in the same category as watching porn. I envision pastors raising crosses to me; churches may preach against reading these mature-content stories. There is a reason we write under pseudo names and have avatars as our profile pictures. My friends and family do not know about my naughty little stories and would fall over dead if they ever found out.
I can hear my mother screeching now, "You go wash out that dirty mind with soap!" I hear the angry mob crying: It is dirty! Smut writing opens a porthole to hell! Your eyes will bleed! Hmmm, let's test that last theory, shall we? Close one eye, just in case, and read the naughty excerpt below:
You look down at the angel on her knees. Her blue eyes sparkle with desire as she looks up at you. Her expression on her face turns you on the most - seeing her enjoying your cock, wanting to make you cum.
Your eyes travel down to the main attraction - her mouth sucking your fat cock. Her lips and tongue are sweetly torturing you. Gagging sounds signify she wants to swallow you more than she wants to breathe. Feeling her tight throat stretch around your head fires all the nerve endings in your loins.
Scrunching your face, you feel your balls tighten.
Well? Is your eyeball bleeding? Did lightning strike the top of your head? I mean, your other head. I imagine you have experienced a little stirring down below at the very least. Am I right? You created a sexy woman in your head and pictured the scene above as your cock grew in your pants. Oh, but I left you blue-balled. Bad smut writer! I will finish you off.
Your fingers intertwine in her golden tendrils, holding her head perfectly still so you can face-fuck her your hardest. Her gasps for air fall into the background as the sound of your hard balls thumps her chin. Smack! Smack! Smack! Here it comes. Oh, God. Balls tighten. Then... fuck! Your hips thrust three more times, emptying your spunk. You smile as she lifts her face so you can see your cum dribbling out the corners of her mouth, running down her chin. Withdrawing your softening cock, you watch her throat for signs of her swallowing. There it is. A big gulp.
Is that better? Now clean your sticky goo off the screen, so you can read the rest of my story. Only the truly wicked writers leave you dangling and unsatisfied at the end of their stories. Not mentioning any names, but you know who are you. Naughty teasers! They call their endings titillating cliffhangers. But, I think they should bare their bottoms for my paddle for making us wait a week for the juiciest part of their stories!
Where do I get my inspiration for my stories? Everywhere. My mind can turn the simplest thing into something sexual. Today, as I sit at my desk, I look out my window for inspiration. His hair catches my eye. It looks like liquid gold in the sunshine with a hint of red. His beard and mustache look like they might tickle in the right circumstance. Immediately, my phallic-shaped imagination takes over. I look down at his trousers wondering what color hair lies beneath, surrounding his cock. With hurried keystrokes, this innocent man on the street below becomes my hot lover.
"I will devour you."
As I look down, all I see is his sun-kissed hair poking up from my shaven mound. My body quivers as his rough beard rubs against my wet folds with his tongue exploring every crevice between my legs. Rocking my hips forward, his tongue flicks my puckered little asshole, causing me to squeal.
My toes wiggle from his intimate kisses. He kisses his way up to my mound and his mustache tickles the sensitive area surrounding my clit.
"Please," I beg.
He nibbles and licks my engorged little button as my hips try to buck off the bed. His hands wrap around my thighs holding me in place while he ravages my pussy now, not letting up until he hears me scream his name.
Oh, I like the start of that story. I tweak my nipple a little. Yes, my mind is on fire now. I see an older, distinguished-looking gentleman across the street leaning against a lamppost, adjusting his belt. My ass cheeks flinch as he becomes my Master.
"Kimmi, you have been naughty." It is a statement, never a question. He always knows.
My eyes shoot to his hands working his belt. Slowly, he unfastens it and my breath catches as the leather passes through each loop. After folding over his belt, he sits in his chair.
I pad over to him pouting, and he pulls me over his knees as soon as I am within reach. My useless pleading starts and is ignored. My pussy tingles as he drags the leather across my skin never kissed by the sun. My ass quivers.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
A good spanking always does it for me. Please believe me, I do try to give you a variety of hotness to read - providing a little naughty tidbit for every taste. But, I admit, I am often self-indulgent and my own tastes enter my stories.
And it might interest you to know, I often jot down notes before I type my tasty morsels into Lush. The naughty juices flow, especially after I have dipped my pen inside my pussy and covered it with some juices of my own. It might also interest you to know, I might then lick my pen. Oh my goodness. An afternoon of writing has me quite hot and bothered now. My aching clit tells me it is time for a break. But do not worry, I will definitely give you naughty voyeurs a peek into my panties through erotically crafted sentences.
I hope you enjoyed this insight into my dirty mind. A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste, so more stories cumming.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than avataransk.ru
with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.