Brunette babe in dark suit sexy sports

Nice circus artist. Brunette babe in dark suit performs exciting tricks with soft chair.

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Drept pentru care acum are si 10000 de lei de platit fiindca a demisionat (clauza din contract fireste ) :)

Asta ne deruteaza complet si modifica o frumoasa zicala populara cam asa :

" Si nefututi dar cu banii luati de la proaste "

My Soul’s Desire is the Second Home of the Sensualist.  My Soul’s Desire is an effort to bring the Sensualist back to the masses.  Many already know me by my stories.  For those of you who don’t, I am starting back at the beginning…

Naughty Business

Considering how Nadia thoroughly heightened my senses, I am completely buzzed and wanting more.  You are visibly delighted with the fabulous performance that unfolded spontaneously before you. 

I am still fiddling with my mini skirt trying to get it back into place and ask if you mind giving me a hand adjusting it.  Of course this is just a ploy to have your body closer to mine.  In a place like this, no one gives a second glance to people touching each other.  Even if they did, what would it matter?  Practically every eye in the place just had an eyeful of me splayed on the stage with Naughty Nadia having her way with me; my nipple caught between her lips and my pussy trickling with desire. 

As I lean in towards you, your hands find their way to the hem of my skirt, lightly tugging and shifting in pretense of straightening it.  But then the real naughty business begins.  Your palm glides up the front of my thigh while your other hand travels up my shirt in search of the nipples brushing against your chest becoming more and more aroused by the second.  You kiss me deeply making me crave the touch of your fingers in me mimicking your tongue, yet you have not reached my sweet spot yet.  Your thumb is grazing over the top of my mound softly while your fingers tickle on either side of my nether lips teasingly.  I am gushing wetness, creaming for you to plunge inside of me, begging for you to stroke me to an orgasmic finish. 

My hands slide down your chest, sides, and hips to the front of your zipper with the exclusive intent to massage your cock until you are in exactly the same frenetic state of being I am in.  But I want more than touching you through your jeans.  I want to feel your hard, steaming, pulsating cock in my hand, swelling to my touch.  I must feel you in that lustful, stirred up state.  You are an addiction, a craving deeply embedded in my soul rousing all the brazen sexual desires within me. 

Your fingers have entered my slippery juices and are bathing in their richness, sliding front to back while your thumb slips back and forth over my nub.  My breath catches as you roll my nipple between your other thumb and forefinger.  Small twinges of orgasmic electricity ring out and I press myself into your fingers, kissing you as deeply as possible.  My ass clenches and my thighs tighten as I cling to every drop of sensation as it trickles through my extremities.  The thrilling ripples of indulgence last seconds yet seem like minutes. 

I lean up on the tips of my toes to whisper in your ear. 

“I need you to fuck me.  Right here.  Right now.”  And I nip the flesh of your ear with my teeth. 

Leading you by the hand I take you to a darkened corner in the upper level of the strip club where the strippers are busy getting their groove on giving lap dances.  Who knows?  Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to run into Naughty Nadia while we’re at play…

Please amuse me this little bug…I am claiming my site on Technorati which explains the following configuration… hope I am doing it all correctly.  Cross your fingers.  ;) 

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Boobs, tits (I detest that word), melons, bazongas, jugs, cupcakes, knockers, peaches, the twins, the girls, sweater treats…there are a thousand names or more.  Call them what you will, but they are breasts none the less. 

Men are obviously fascinated, mesmerized in fact, by breasts.  Hell, I am captivated by beautiful breasts whether they are small, medium or large.  It makes no difference to me.  The human body is a marvelous feast for the eyes. 

Today I searched under tags and found an incredible number of sites dedicated solely to women’s breasts.  I did not search under breasts mind you!  This begs to question, if men are so enthralled with the breast why the hell don’t they spend more time on them in foreplay?  I touched on this in my *HOT 100* list, but had forgotten about it until now.  Like I said there, it took me a week to write that list. 

My nipples are one of the most sensitive areas on my body when it comes to sexual/sensual stimulation.  Playing with my nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger and massaging them in that perfect suckling way can take me clear to the edge of orgasm.  If I breathe deeply and concentrate while clenching my pussy I can orgasm without touching anything but my breasts and nipples.  They are exactly that sensitive. 

However, when it comes to foreplay and sex, breasts and nipples get the raw end of the deal.  Those first months of dating breasts are in “woohoo!” heaven.  They get loads of attention.  It is that hesitation attention.  The “may I”, “can I”, “will she let me”, “Oh, God I’ve got to have those” kind of attention.  And then, months later that attention gets shifted to the “yeah, these are really nice, but I know where the real action is” kind of attention.  Breasts and nipples get the kind of attention a person gives to people they don’t know at a party.  It’s the mandatory, handshake and hello in passing on the way to the cocktail bar.  Breasts get a massage, caress, lick and suck and then move on down the torso.  Every once in a while a random pinch here or there.  When it’s out of the blue it’s an “Ouch!” or “Wowser!” because really, where in the hell did that come from anyway?  It had been a while since anyone had noticed the boob at all. 

My point is men either get lazy or are so sex crazed because we are so damned sexy (men nod your head in agreement here) that they go straight for the goods and forget about all the goodies in between that got them to the creamy center in the first place.  I know.  I lumped men together again.  You are all unique and we love you for that distinctiveness.  Seriously though, while there is room for a quickie now and again (and we do love those!), slow it down once in a while.  Quit making a bee line straight down the middle and remember how you got to that silky wet spot in those first months to begin with.  It began with a cop and feel at a breast and nipple no doubt. 

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 I have spent alot of my life watching men. I am a huge fan of men and as I get older I find myself watching them more and more. The way they look. The way they move and act. The way they make me feel. The way they make me have to run home or to the nearest hiding place just so I can touch myself and fantasize as if they were the one touching me.

I have always been a fantasizer and I have always been a very sexual person.

I turned 30 years old this year. My birthday present for myself is to be honest with myself and the strong sexual force inside me.

I want to explore all my sexual desires and fantasies I have. I have an active interest in erotic photography. I love being creative.

When I am not creative I do not feel alive.

I am the model and the photographer. All of my photographs are of myself and I have been pulled to erotic photography because I am surrounded by so much masculine inspiration.

Men make me want to do naughty things.

and I like it......

Swinging.  I am not speaking of playgrounds here.  Well, not a park anyway.  A sexual playground possibly.  Probably.  Lately, I have noticed a fair amount of traffic on my site from sites of swingers.  I have found it interesting…fascinating in fact.  I am no different than any other curious person.  Swinging has made its way to mainstream television this season with the hit show Swingtown.

First of all I am continually thrilled (absolutely thrilled) anyone reads my stories and then comes back for more.  I am ecstatic when I tag back to their site and see that they have actually blogrolled my site.  I practically do back flips.  Well, I am limber, but not THAT limber.  And in case you are scrolling to my blogroll at this second, I keep one, but it’s in my browser favorites so I can get to it from all of my sites rather than just one.  I save everyone.  I read all of you!  I comment to as many of you as I can.  In my *Hot 100* I said I read thirty to fifty blogs a day.  That is possibly an understatement. 

Secondly, how do swingers do it?  Is there jealousy?  I mean really, I am not a jealous person by and large.  I point out women on the street, in bars, at restaurants, at airports or where ever to my boyfriend.  If I see a woman who looks fabulous I say, “I’d take her picture.”  My boyfriend points women out to me as well.  There is a running joke of sorts that I can have sex with anyone I want…as long as it is another woman…and I take photos…and a video camera would be nice…and if he were invited that would be even better…  We women know most men dream and fantasize about a threesome.  But, a foursome?  How many men are really that secure?  Or women even?  There are many women out there that fight tooth and nail if another woman even looks at their man.  Reading some of these postings on swing sites I am struck by what appears to be a total lack of jealousy.  In fact it seems it is exactly the opposite.  These couples seem to be handing each other over to the other couples.  Fascinating.  Did I say fascinating yet again? 

Intriguing because of the openness in their relationship.  Exciting due to the fact that we live in a world that glamorizes sex openly, yet criticizes people for actually living a sexually free life.  Swingers actually do that.  They embrace their sexuality. 

What I have also discovered is this is not free for all sex.  There are rules and confines to this lifestyle.  Swingers don’t go about fucking everything that moves without consequence.  It is not about cheating on each other.  It seems to be about discovering and experiencing more with each other.  Couples have their own rules about that; some in the same room with the other couple and others may be in different rooms with the other couple.  However, most seem to keep the experience a shared one. 

It makes me think that swinging really is not so different than the lives that the mainstream live, except possibly swingers may feel they have to keep their lifestyle a bit on the down low.  How many soccer moms and suited up dads at the firm would go out for a beer or cocktails with “Mary Jane” and “Dick” if they thought they were being scoped out for the next shack up?  That is being a little crude and I mean no disrespect to swingers.  That crude mentality is why I write erotic stories on a sex site without my face in the photos and why swingers don’t use their real names on their swing sites.  Mainstream “normal” is not prepared to embrace sexuality of this sort.  They will watch it on TV, read it in books and sneak around on their mates for a little slap and tickle, but to come out and say they are sexual beings is a little much. 

Swinging is not necessarily a lifestyle for me, but Wow!  It has really caused my imagination to work overtime.  Imagine the possibility for stories to come.  Imagine the fantasies to play out in the future.  Thank you to the swingers who have tapped into my site.  I am enjoying reading about a different slice of sensuality! 

Read the entry: Miss Redneck

 

MY NEWEST VIDEO!

Terry Rodgers

My Soul’s Desire is the Second Home of the Sensualist.  My Soul’s Desire is an effort to bring the Sensualist back to the masses.  Many already know me by my stories.  For those of you who don’t, I am starting back at the beginning…

Naughty Nadia

Watching women approach the strippers on stage enthralls me.  Have you seen what the strippers do with the women?  From my view they touch the women way more aggressively and suggestively than any man in the place.  What’s not to enjoy?!  The women who come within reach of the stage really get worked over and I do mean “over.” 

So, I have been collecting my dollar bills for just that purpose.  I feel like being worked over by my favorite stripper.  Her name is Naughty Nadia.  Thanks for taking me to the strip club.  Hope you don’t mind sharing me with a beautiful woman who smells wonderful.  I promise to make it worth your while and return the favor.

When we arrive the atmosphere is loud and rowdy, but in the spirit of sexy entertainment.  There are more women watching the strippers and participating in the show than there are men along the rail throwing in dollars.  We make our way through the crowd, checking out the women in their scantily clad outfits and the strippers in their barely there lingerie.  Once we settle in at a table and order a drink it is time to watch and wait.  We are here for Nadia.  Once it is her turn to perform, I will make my way to the edge of the stage. 

Lucky me, it is not a long wait.  Naughty Nadia prances out on stage in her stripper heels wearing a bra and thong set in leopard print.  Her ringlet curls are piled on her head with strands dangling teasingly.  Her body is tan and taut.  She is muscled, but definitely feminine.  Nadia glides around the pole with ease, swaying to the music and delights the crowd.  And then she makes her way toward the edge of the stage where I stand, equally captivated.

She smiles at me, curling her finger towards me to come closer.  The bouncer at the steps of the stage allows me access and Nadia holds her palm out to me.  I take her hand.  I can hear you whistle in the background.  You must be grinning, but I can not look as Nadia has me mesmerized.  Her skin is creamy smooth.  She glistens.  She tells me to stand still and she dances around me as if I were her personal pole, rubbing her body along me, zigzagging her fingers and palms along my breasts, ass, back, in my hair and over my mound as if it were only natural that she could have her way with me.  Oh, and she can.  If only there were not layers of clothing between us.  My desire for her makes the stage inconsequential.  But my time on stage is short.  Nadia must take me back to the steps. 

As I am about to step down, Nadia taps my shoulder.  I look over my shoulder at her and she tells me to sit on the edge of the stage and lean back.  She has a special treat for me.  I look at the bouncer who nods his head with approval.  As I sit and look over my other shoulder toward you, there are catcalls and whistles.  Naughty Nadia is about to show her truly mischievous side.  She begins to crawl over the top of me in rhythm to the music with her beautifully round ass perched up in the air for all to see.  As she straddles one of my legs, I know I am open for all to see.  There is nothing left to the imagination between my legs beneath my mini skirt.  Nadia has the perfect up close and personal view.  Her fingernails lightly abrade my thighs from my knees to the hem of my skirt.  She looks me directly in the eye.  I am daring her, begging her even.  Her hands disappear beneath my skirt.  Her fingers splay over my mound and her thumbs toy with my pussy briefly.  I want so much more.  She is making me gush with wetness.  Her hands round out their play by cupping my ass and dragging her nails down my backside.  She winks at me. 

Nadia crawls up my body straddling me, settling her pussy on my mound.  She grinds on me in slow, rhythmic circles.  My desire for her builds by the second.  Her long fingers move up toward my navel under my shirt.  She pushes my shirt up and leans over.  I can feel her breath on my skin and her loose curls brushing my lips.  Her fingers slide up my ribcage.  I feel the tip of her wet tongue for the first time slide between my breasts just as her scantily clad breasts rub against my skin.  Her tongue circles one breast widely until little by little she works her way to the pointed nipple begging for her touch.  And she stops.  She leaves it.  She moves to the other awaiting breast, lightly licking, circling, until it too is begging at attention for her tongue to taste it.  But again she stops. 

Nadia lifts her head and looks me in the eye.  She takes both breasts in her palms and tweaks my nipples while rolling her hips, grinding her pussy over my mound.  Oh, the unbelievable pleasure surging through me.  I want to touch her, taste her.  Then Nadia leans back down to me.  She fills her lips with the fullness of my breast before one at a time teasing my nipples with her tongue, nipping and flicking them briefly, just enough to tease them before sliding my top back down and sinking the tip of her tongue in my navel.  My entire body is quivering with sexual tension.

Then in true stripper fashion she wriggles up my body with her pussy up over my face.  She smells of passion making me want a taste of her all the more.  But she pulls her thong away from her thigh for me to gingerly place my dollar bills with a perfect view of the bare flesh beneath the almost there fabric. 

“I still want a lap dance for my boyfriend and maybe one for me,” I tell her.

“My pleasure,” she says.

And she wriggled off my body and left the stage. 

I received three fan letters this week! 

One was from Laura, an old pal I used to chase the Bee Gees with, back in the day.  She is reading SMOLDER, says it's "EXCELLENT" and she "can't put it down!" The rock star subplot must have her hooked.

I also got a note praising IMMACULATE DECEPTION from Donna, another lady we used to run around Miami Beach with, chasing Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb.  It brought to mind a younger, innocent time when having fun was everything a girl could want to do.  Sometimes we never got near the Brothers Gibb.  Sometimes we caught them, and they were just as excited as we were.  Either way, it was the camaraderie of the music that intertwined our lives and gave us joy.

And I recieved a nice note from a new writer friend, Susan, who found STARRY STARRY NIGHT, a free erotic story I have at Phaze.  She loved the humor.  This is the first feedback I've received on this story, though I know it's been widely downloaded.  I was unsure, because I took a big artistic risk, starting the story as a romantic comedy and turning it dark in the end.  I'm so glad it worked for at least one reader.  THIS BOOK IS FOR ADULTS ONLY!

"Truth titillates the imagination far less than fiction. "

"Woman's destiny is to be wanton, like the bitch, the she-wolf; she must belong to all who claim her. "

"In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice."

All universal moral principles are idle fancies.

This past week I spent a serious amount of time traveling on the road, which in turn meant an equal amount of time listening to music.  I make mental notes to self as well as scribbles on a note pad I keep handy while driving.

Who knows if you have heard of the newest sensation on pop radio or not; Duffy.  If you haven’t, pick it up.  Her single, Mercy, is her popular most played song out on the radio.  However the one that struck my attention from her CD is Serious.  The reason…she is asking if “we can ever be serious in love” because she is tired of being a “trophy on an arm”, being an “accessory that suits” or him “wear(ing) me like a charm”.  Fair enough.  Who really likes feeling like that?

So let’s see…women get boob jobs, wear makeup, heels, short skirts, cleavage shirts, accessorize with jewelry and flutter our eye lashes.  I am being a bit over the top to make a point.  We do our best to look our best, but we do not do that to be worn as eye candy nor to be treated as if we do not have a brain.  We are not second or third rate citizens.  We do not like being called stupid or care to be insinuated as stupid.  We are not dumb due to our hair color or breast size.  We are not shallow due to our gender, heel height or skirt length.  Our IQ is not measured by how much skin is showing from our neck to our navel or our navel to our toes.  We do not care to be talked down to.  Our breasts are not our eyes.  We go to school, hold jobs, make a living and have something to contribute to society besides our outstanding and fabulous great looks.  So, men…pay attention.

A female with an opinion and intelligence should not be a threat to the male ego.  The only thing I am clueless about is why men (some men that is - that generality thing will get me every time!) think it is cute, funny, macho, a turn on…to downgrade a woman in front of their buddies.  Or even better yet, make excuses for what a woman does or does not do for a living in front of work mates as if it has any reflection on their own self esteem.  And then on top of all of that, laugh it off and have the high hopes that said woman will fall head over heels in bed with them at the end of the evening as if nothing ever happened.  Oh, yes.  Women really do have a brain in there and tuck all this information away.  It is not cute or funny.  It pops in our head at the dandiest of times, such as mid pucker or as we are trying to get off and climax.  Oops!  That climax just slips away in the “heat” of the angered moment when we remember that we were just eye candy and the butt of yet another joke and it just won’t release from our brain. 

I used to have a friend whose husband would tell her to just stand there and look pretty.  To me it is just a joke now.  Then it sounded awful, as if it were all she was good for.  Sort of a “keep your mouth shut and just look good” sort of thing.  That is the ultimate of “eye candy/trophy” if you ask me.  Not a compliment unless that is all you are into.  Some like that sort of thing.  Good for them.  Not so much for me.  I can keep my mouth quiet for so long and then it all builds up and bubbles forth.  I am not a bubble head mind you; just blonde. 

This song Serious…I like it, the flow of the music and so forth.  I truly hope Duffy goes places.  But my question is, if a woman is being treated this way, why would she want something more serious from that particular man?  Unless of course he decides to straighten up and get his act together…no woman should put up with sort of crap if it makes her feel bad. 

My Soul’s Desire is the Second Home of the Sensualist.  My Soul’s Desire is an effort to bring the Sensualist back to the masses.  Many already know me by my stories.  For those of you who don’t, I am starting back at the beginning…

Stairway Foreplay

Going out with friends is fun, but it also means several hours of behaving myself depending on which friends we are out with.  I am not able to touch you anywhere I want.  It is hours of keeping my hands from squeezing your ass.  Hours without turning to face you so I can palm your cock through your pants while we kiss.  Hours without kissing you shamelessly.  What is a girl to do?  I promised to behave up until you turned the key in the lock to the front door. 

I didn’t mean to break my promise.  But you said we would be home by midnight and I could have my way with you then.  It was midnight as we approached the apartment building.  You were mine before you even placed the key in the lock.  You had no idea what a handful I was about to be…

I was standing there behind you, pressing my body against yours, rubbing against you, feeling the excitement and tingling rage through my nerve endings.  My hands slid around your waist, past the crevice at the top of your thighs to meet together in the middle, stroking upward over the growing bulge beneath my palms.  All the while my lips found their way to the nape of your neck then moved on to nibble at your ear, tracing the outline of your earlobes with the faintest wetness of the tip of my tongue.  I whispered how much I have wanted to feel your tongue dancing with my tongue tonight and that my nipples are craving the touch of your tongue swirling circles around them.  And wouldn’t it be amazing to have that fabulous tongue of yours tickling me along the curve of my sides, behind my knee and at the inside of my thigh just before plunging deep inside me to taste the buttery juices that flow so freely because of the desire I have for you.  There is one more thing I whispered.  I want you to taste me right now.

We managed to make it in the door off the street, even closing it behind us.  You pulled me in and had me against the foyer wall kissing me frantically.  Those deep searching kisses that are a change over from day time man to night time animalistic lover.  My legs are spread with one of your knees between my legs.  Your fingers are entangled in my hair while your other hand passionately ravages my body; caressing and grasping at my breast, lightly pinching at my nipple with your thumb and forefinger.  I can feel your cock throb beneath your pants as you crush into my mound.  My hands are busy pulling your hips as close to mine as possible and I begin to move under the weight of your hips.  My pussy is flooding with the wetness of my arousal.  I begin fumbling with the buckle on you belt.  More than anything I want you pulsing inside me.  All you would have to do is lift me just a little and I could wrap my legs around you.  No one on the street could see anything through the glass doors.  My skirt would cover everything. 

But the elevator dinged.  Someone was coming.  Oh, how I wanted you right now!  Damn the neighbors.  You quickly pulled me to the stairway, placing a finger over my lips to keep quiet.  I playfully bit you.  Payback is hell and boy did you pay me back.  It isn’t nice to make me be quiet when neighbors insist on hanging around talking in the foyer. 

As soon as I bit you, you rolled me over on the stairs, pinning me as you straddled me.  Your hands slid down my chest, over my breasts, cupping their swell in your palms.  You had a wicked grin on your face.  You continued roving your hand down my body and you leaned back down, kissing me, sliding lower down my body.  Your kisses quickly travel from my lips to the valley between my breasts as your hands glide over my hips to the hem of my skirt.  You have expertly undone my blouse with your teeth and have begun taking little nips of my tummy all the way down to my navel.  Your hands push my skirt up to my hips and you don’t waste even a second before plunging your tongue between my legs as I brace myself clutching at your shoulders, arching my back on the stairs.  Oh, yes, I do love you on your knees beneath me as well.  You lick, circling; flicking, back and forth until I am writhing quietly on the stairs.  And then the orgasm quakes through my body, rocking me to my core.  The pent up energy of wanting you all evening washed over me in waves, soothing me. 

When you look up at me, you think you have just gotten away with something, but you have not.  Two can play this game.  While you have given me much pleasure, I am far from sated.  I still haven’t wrapped my lips around that delicious cock of yours that I want so much. 

I curl my finger, wiggling it for you to come to me.  You climb up over my body, hovering over me.  I tell you I want to taste your cock, but you have on too many clothes.  You say it is time to go home.  You want all of me naked and you grind your hard cock into my still aroused mound.  I relent.  The stairs are fun, but the leather sofa would be much more fun. 

We scurry up the stairs and to the apartment.  As you turn the key to the door, I am again at your back with my hands around your waist.  This time your belt is undone, your shirt already pulled out of your pants, and your zipper undone.  My hand has disappeared as I stroke your hard, warm, throbbing cock; rubbing my thumb over the head of it smearing the first slick juices.  Oh, how I love your smoothness. 

We leave a trail of clothing from the door to the leather sofa.  Once we are on the sofa, me sitting on your lap, straddling you, getting you wetter, sliding back and forth on your hardened cock, getting you stiffer, I slip down to the floor between your knees.  My lips kiss your chin, down your neck to the hollow of your collar bone.  You lean your head back in relaxation, closing your eyes, enjoying the moment.  I take my time lavishing you with kisses all over your chest to your navel, lightly scratching my fingernails over your chest and down your sides until I reach your hips. 

I continue kissing you all along the sensitive area at the top of your thighs to inside your leg, just hovering above your cock long enough for the heat of my breath to tease you to make you want me even more.  Then I make my way to the opposite thigh, kissing, and licking with the tip of my tongue.  My mouth waters with wanting to taste you.  Teasing you is teasing me. 

While I take my time kissing with tiny licks, my fingers begin feeling how silky smooth you become when you are hard and burning for me.  My fingertips toy with you, spreading your slippery drops with my thumb.  That is when I give in to the temptation to taste you and swirl my tongue around the rim, covering the head with my lips, ending in a delicately hot kiss over just the tip.  It really is just like licking an ice cream cone to peak perfection.  When you reach down to me, I continue circling your head with my fingertips and take your fingers into my mouth one by one, savoring them with my tongue, sucking lightly to the tips.  Then I take one long lick from the base of your penis to the tip, wasting no time sliding my lips over the head and stroking down the entire length with my tongue until I feel you in the back of my throat.  You taste and feel so incredible between my lips.  I can feel your pulse on my tongue as you get more and more aroused.  Listening to you and feeling you touch me while I am kissing, licking, and sucking you gets me wetter.

When you reach the point when you can not take anymore oral stimulation without losing control, I sit back up on your lap, letting you feel how slippery my pussy is.  Then I lower myself slowly, making sure to feel every ridge of you as you glide between my pussy lips, deep into me.  We resist the urge to move for a moment.  You play with my nipples, rolling your tongue around them while sucking gently, yet deeply.  I am so close to coming when you are inside me and stimulating my nipples at the same time.  The feeling is amazing.  There is the point where control is beyond our scope and we give way to pure abandon, moving in rhythm, rocking back and forth, thrusting as deeply as possible, your hands on my hips and ass, moving me with you until all the nerve endings in our bodies seem to surge at the same moment and the pleasure gushes forth refusing to be denied any longer.  It is in those few seconds and the moments directly after that feel so incredible that words can not quite describe it.  There are these tiny after shocks that ripple through me like mini earthquakes sometimes making me shiver.

Once our energy is spent and we can barely move, we stay tangled together until we regain enough energy to make it to bed where we can rest and recover.  Maybe I will be your personal alarm clock in the morning and send you off to work with something to smile about.