The wet hands, tied, more than crumpled, tense with pleasure. His tongue invaded my mouth, greedy like a madman wanting my soul.
I hugged his hips with my long legs. Firm virility opened my center; made my flower bloom. I watered its stem in my hot juice. Dense, sweet, and acid burning his mast.
For a time we merged into a single being.
The rhythmic blows came to make us suffer. I made him moan, until the last drop, filling me with his seed.
