The Last Strawberry

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My face is covered in her, yet I still crave more. 

I pluck the last strawberry from the bowl, twirl it between my fingers and watch her body come down from the latest climax. 

She lays sprawled on the kitchen table, legs quivering. I move closer, heat pressed against heat as she looks up at me, a sigh escapes her lips. 

I love the change in her eyes as I drag the strawberry between her freshly shaven lips, collecting a mix of us.

A translucent string of cum hangs from the strawberry as I hold it up for her to see.

“Wanna taste?”

 

Published 7 years ago

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