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22 Nisan 2023, 12:03
Melissa dragged the scope from between her clinging clam lips. Born anew; lustful tears gushing from her abused sex; it arose glistening into the light. A penile projection of black plastic-coated metal, her lover, the pleasure provider. Its surface slick with her cream, fingers glittering pearlescent as they clung to its slippery mass.*Upwards it travelled; away from the hips that still thrust ineffectual at nothingness, beyond the flat prairie of her stomach rippling with seismic aftershocks, over the twin mounds of her heaving breasts, until it reached her whimpering, blood swollen lips.*Entranced, I viewed its purposeful ascent gorging on each detail of its scenic journey until I too reached her waiting visage. Her previously lust-muddied eyes stared back, no longer clouded but bright and penetrative, fixing me. Her tongue reached out, lapping and swirling, feasting on cunt nectar, traversing the length of the abusive scope, suckling its essence, coating it with saliva. Opening wider to reveal her wet waiting warmth before pressing it between her lips and slurping it clean of her self-abasement. Fingers followed, singularly, one by one, popped between her receptive lips, sucked lasciviously, brought forth once more gleaming to sparkle cleansed before my intent gaze.*Dizzy, eyes red-rimmed, my ears resounding to the echo of my own rasping breath, I watched as she brought her planed fingers back to her lips, rewarded them with a loving kiss, placed her hand flat, palm upward before her, and blew.*Blew it into the darkness between us. Blew it with her gaze staring deep into my indigo soul. Blew it so that I might have no doubt. Blew it so I might feel it slap against the sopping mess of my desperate, expectant cunt.*Her light went out.*I escaped to my bed but not to sleep. There was to be no escape from her there; her eyes boring into my soul, her fluttered kiss ablaze in my sex. My fingers embedding themselves within my tropics; all heat and humidity and wetness; relentless in their desire to purge me of every last droplet of lust. Mouth an open wound gasping wordlessly into the wetted fabric of my pillows, eyes refusing Demetevler Escort (http://acilankara.com/ad-category/demetevler-escort/) to shutter themselves staring unseeing into the darkness, body twisted amongst the bedding, skin sweat sheened, bud breasts rubbing themselves painfully on Egyptian cotton as my fingers pummelled my orgasming cunt.*Remorseless and insistent, driving me again and again beyond the peak to cascade helter-skelter into moaning, whimpering release. Release without satisfaction. Release without resolution. No sooner has one departed than my digits redoubled their efforts; rubbing, pinching, flicking, scratching, fucking; insatiable in their demands as they drive me whimpering helpless as a newborn calf to yet another sobbing crescendo.Yet still, she comes and still I cum. Unbidden; cavorting behind sightless eyes. Hips humping in wild abandonment as she abases herself for my pleasure. Pleasure turning to suffering as she rips another orgasm from my battered cunt; thighs quivering, wrist strained, stomach muscles rippling with the endlessly repeated clenching. Saliva spots splashed across my skin, hair-dampened tendrils sticking to my flesh all sense of styling long since lost.*Eventually; as the night sky's hues lightened, as a Robin trilled its greeting to the possibility of a new day; the spectre of her subsided, my weary eyelids fluttered shut, my limbs ceased their spasmic jerking and I slept.*I woke clear-headed. I woke to an epiphany of understanding. I woke furious. Fucking prying bitch, staring through my window panes, tracking my every movement, ogling my flesh. Depraved slut stealing my precious privacy as she flaunted her own degraded, disgusting immorality. Exhibiting herself. Taunting. Provoking. Fucking her sloppy, well-used cunt like some rabid, overheated slattern. Well, I wouldn't stand for it. She wasn't going to be blowing me any more cum juice kisses. It needed to stop.*I went shopping.*I love shopping; makeup fixed, hair straightened and tonged into place, perfumed wrists, perfumed neck, perfumed cleavage, the click of hangars as I rummage through my wardrobes, the Otele Gelen Escort (http://acilankara.com/ad-category/otele-gelen-escort/) discarded outfits, the regimented ranks of shoes all screaming 'choose me, choose me', the streets, the shops, the hum of humanity, the wares all titivated for my delight, to touch, to fondle, to caress, and yes, when all is done, to have goodies secreted in an anonymous brown paper bag for me to carry home. I remember it all so well.*I traipsed downstairs, made myself a giant mug of tea, cut myself a slice of cake, grabbed my laptop, curled up in my favourite armchair and did my best not to give Jeff Bezos any more of the world's money. Two hours later, I was done, the baskets had been emptied and my credit card debts were a little bit larger than they had been at daybreak. Delivery expected in three to five days. I hate lockdown shopping.*Text messages, emails and delivery drivers came and went and soon I was able to welcome three new items to feather my nest. A quite wonderful spotting scope that nestled light and comfortable in my hand, a tripod floor lamp to sit alongside my Lloyd Loom chair and a 100 Stars kimono jacket in dusty grey. It wasn't quite the same as hers, but it was the closest I could find.*See, if that copycat slut was going to appropriate bits of me; well two can do that and she holds no copyright over slouching splayed and displayed bathed in lamplight, I can do that too, I'm quite practised, quite proficient. Let's see how much the back alley whore likes that. Now all I need to do is wait for dusk to fall and for darkness to lay its smothering blanket across my tiny, unimportant, bucolic life.*I arranged and plumped the cushions, secreted the scope amongst them, switched on the telltale lamp to invite her curiosity, and then retreated to the hidden sanctuary of my living room. Two episodes of Parks and Recreation later, (forty-five minutes of trying to absorb Leslie Knope's perky, never say no, eager to please attitude into my darkened soul) I stripped off my clothing, shrugged on the kimono, popped via the kitchen to collect a wooden spatula, a rolling Balgat Escort (http://acilankara.com/ad-category/balgat-escort/) pin and two clothes pegs, and headed upstairs to see if I'd captured any flies in my carefully spun web.*She was waiting for me, light on, reclining in her chair, feet stretched inconceivably wide, the journey from her ankles to her glistening cunt an eternity of perfect flesh. I sashayed to the chair, a peasant's imitation of her regal progress, and plopped myself down gracelessly before waving my kitchen accoutrements before her staring eyes. I held them aloft individually for her to view more in hope than expectation that she would divine my intent. Maybe she is a mind reader, maybe alongside stunning beauty and a winning personality she also possesses ESP, besides, if she hadn't understood, the plotting of this whole segment would have proved even more difficult and would have necessitated some form of show and tell demonstration and I feel I've already stretched reasonable credibility to its limit.*Stepping away, she disappeared into the unviewable reaches of her apartment. Patiently, I waited, scope to eye, scanning through the visible paraphernalia of her life as I absent-mindedly caressed a hidden nipple and waited for her to return with her assortment of household goodies. They weren't quite the same as mine, similar and appropriate for the purpose I had in mind but not identical. How could they be? That would be mad. She'd of had to have broken into my house, rifled through all my belongings, gone out and purchased exact copies. Behaviour which would not only have been a completely inappropriate invasion of my privacy but would have been a total contravention of Twat Wankcock's Covid Rules and Regulations for staying alive.*Shrugging the kimono from my shoulders I allow it to drape itself across the woven willow exposing myself to her attentive gaze. Exposing myself in all my imperfections; the tiger stripes about my hips, my birdcage ribcage, my unrisen souffle breasts all displayed for her to sneer and mock.*"Bitch."*Softly at first, the word extended as it creeps through my mind.*"Bitch."*Like mist swirling about an Avalon landscape.*"Bitch."*Resonating forth and echoing back on itself as my fingers grasp a single clothes peg.*"Bitch."*Closing it haphazardly on my left nipple. Rotating it in my fingers. Squeezing at the tip. Tugging. Dragging at the flesh. Releasing and reattaching. Pain splinters slashing through my flesh as I pull at the grasping clamp bringing my sagged flesh taut.*