Back to my question from a couple weeks ago. It’s easy to re..
🕑 Added 2020-10-29 07:38:11 +0000 UTC
Back to my question from a couple weeks ago. It’s easy to remember your WORST sexual experience, right? But what about the best? The way we categorize it all changes doesn’t it? Or like, it depends.
ALEXA!!!! play. Never as Good by Sade
Oh baby what is good sex? What was the best time? God forbid we have those days back before the tinder and random hook ups, druñken nights. The days before sex void of any real intimacy, just shallow pleasure. Days of not having to do an awkward dance with someone but rather falling into the rhythm. Or the excitement of youthful desire, the crush, the wait, and how thrilling it felt to finally experience what you were waiting patiently for.
I miss the intimacy. The rhythm. We were just friends sitting on the floor sharing of single plate of spaghetti and it was time for bed. He put blankets in the dryer first, before bed. And for me it was different, it was him, it was really cute... and it turned me on. He took the blankets out and we got into bed together. We were just friends, a girl and a boy having a sleep over. 🤤 mmmm sleep overs with boys.
Usually our friends give us a little space or maybe a light cuddle. Maybe spoon together or you could lay on your friends chest for a bit till you were in a wild deep sleep. It wasn’t in my plans to make this love, to you that night.
But it was ok because you’re so damn fine we are under the covers in the dark, comfortable, and safe. And all the joke cracking under the covers, giggling two inches away from each others faces, we fell into the rhythm. We started kissing.
That was the best. I miss those days when we would kiss and kiss and kiss on each other for what felt like forever because the steps after that were still so taboo. Anything after kissing and rubbing and touching was reserved for people who really liked each other... and we decided then, that we must have really liked each other. It’s decided now. It’s way too tempting, we have to run it all the way home, we feel too good to each other. 💭
Then you left the bed and got a condom and came back to me. More kisses and giggles. I touched you and I felt that rock hard cucumber just begging for me and couldn’t resist. I glided it inside of me and gasped and moaned from all this pleasure that I was getting from that donkey dick in the warm blankets in the missionary position that reflected our inexperience. I remember the way the endorphins used to rush from my head down my spine and warm up my legs wrapped around your waist. Back then the pleasure was almost unbearable because it was still so new.
I griped the back of the beautiful black brovaaa with devious eyes and full lips, grinding into the middle of my thighs, parting my ocean causing me ooze the juices of a woman. Stroking my love into a woman.
Kissing and loving me as I evolved. I blossomed. He pounded me softly. He pounded me with rhythm. I gazed up watching him enjoy me. Intimate. Making love. He finished, I made a mess, we kissed a bit more, and I fell asleep so gently...
I want those days back, when it felt that good.
Now I fuck violently for the sport of it. I can’t say I get too sensual too much anymore. I fuck like an animal, a jaguar. Rolling shoulders, pounced, mounted. Whining my waist, twisting, locked in on my prey. Licking purring and roaring. And yes I scratch and bite.
All while dreaming about the boy that put the blankets in the dryer before bed.
God forbid we go back those days 🚬🥃
