My dick was as hard as my high school Physics class the moment I entered your abode. I couldn’t resist the urge to shove my tongue down your throat the instant our eyes met. I reached behind you and took hold of your panties and thick rump. I slid my entire right hand into your undies, and your entire nether region was soaked. We continued to swap saliva as we hurried to your bedroom. I pulled at your undergarment until you were as naked as you were at birth. I pushed you onto your bed and had at you. I lapped up the condensation that I had just previously felt on, and I made a mess of your ass with my tongue. You were a screaming nutcase, and remained in that moment each time my mouth dispatched its arsenal against your genitalia. I manipulated the surface of your clit, too; it was a fat piece of pussy cleavage that I swore I’d please. So, I pulled and tasted at the sensual pleasure harkening to your insane requests. I couldn’t take the torture much longer, though. My rock hard nature spit forth tons of its transparency oil. I mounted you suddenly and out of nowhere in the missionary position. Every thrash and bombardment of my sexual exhibition caused your body to emit pelvic juices of epic proportions. I beat at your pussy like a crazy madman, and your tightness cured my insanity. Before long, your cougar pussy was squirting on my erect black cock. But, your pink, white snatch via your sweet little lips longed to keep at the pumping and thrusting. You licked at my nipples and held on to my hips and ass tightly through the vaginal-fucking expedition. I tried to keep my dick in its lane, but your gripping pussy pulled me from the steering wheel; I lost complete control of myself; I nutted in your throbbing enclosure. It’s not over with yet, though…
I’m reveling in the nut I’ve just experienced via your cougar-gripping pussy. I make use of my downtime, and I rub against your clit with my anxious finger. It doesn’t take long for me to be in the position to have at your soaked rim again. I reach underneath you to hold that entire rump of yours first, though. The likes of the tender pair are addictive and thought provoking. I must stare at the magnificent specimen and its audience, that vulva, before I dive back into the murky waters. In a nutshell, a nigga is in a heated trance in this bed beside you rubbing at your engorged pussy’s cleavage. Neither one of us are good! We both need to own that we’re freaky messes. Own who and what you are, my sweet Lilburn treat. You have fought my advances previously because you’ve accused my naked body and its uplifting tongue with pillaging the likes of virtually every woman’s backside and virtue. What am I to do about my unquenchable appetite for the opposite sex’s underbottom, and the energy that emits from a fiery woman’s disposition? I must conquer a woman’s pussy and asshole with my mouth’s fleshy spear. There’s no getting around my ancient African ancestry, the authoritative nature I affix to gutting at those tasty backsides. That’s why I’m here with you! You were curious and drawn into my mouth-on-ass trap. You didn’t even mistakenly fumble into my snare. You were awake and fully aware that you were parading through my incestuous briar patch. You knew you would be scraped and scratched in my sticker bushes-infested thief deterrent. But you proceeded in the trespassing ritual. Now, look at you; you’re licking your wounds and fighting to regain your composure in my dungeon of immediate pain and pleasure. Oh, my sweet Lilburn cougar, what will you do?
My nature has risen again, but my face is in between your legs now, though. You have begged for me to bring favor to your pussy’s clit with my more-than-apt mouthpiece. I can tell your nature wants to fight me; your brain wants to intervine and bring this ordeal to a halt. But, you and I both have come along too far at this juncture in our sexual time line. My face, its expressions, and wobbling axis deal your clit such rotating gestures and coerces your genitalia into adhering to my forceful oral gravity. Plainly portrayed, I’m pulling at that plump clit seed and rubbing my tongue against its present condition much like a magician rubs his crystal ball. This shit here isn’t some play play exhibition to entertain an audience, though. We’re encased in an anonymity sphere here in your place where no prying eyes can latch onto our disgusting lechery. It’s just my raging face torturing your working hips and awaiting your orgasm to spill onto the scene. But, at this exact point on the time line, you haven’t reached your precipice to even dive into the after-sanctuary. Let me continue to work your clit over, though. Let me continue to mop at your pussy’s floor with my disgusting servitude and stringy feeler. Rest your underside in my crude nest where that pussy sits anxiously and chirps madly for my return to feed her, much like little hatchling birds impatiently await the arrival of their mother to drop morsels of meat into their starving mouths. Right now, my dear, you are just as deserving of my vanquishing deeds as the Americans were after defeating the British during the Revolutionary War. You need lip-and-tongue combinations to ward off your anxiety and your unquenchable cunnilingus appetite. You need my tongue to overpower your pussy’s fort; that sexual piece of yours is putting up a fight and hiding in its cutaway behind the stronghold. But, I’m a patient man; I’ll carve a tunnel underneath your structure, and I’ll dig around in the ground like a nightcrawler…
You’re in a shaky disposition right now, my dear Lilburn cougar: we’re entangled in some kinky jungle right now where I want to intrigue your mouth-starved cunt and its tangy offspring—your rear. And, you’re anxious to experience this nasty tongue swiping and beating away against your honey hole and its opening. Do you feel the heat from my breath on your nearby pussy meat, and do you hear the sound of my voice tempting that tail and encouraging your pussy and ass to come closer into my sphere of influence? You’re rocking your interior against my face, and you’re pressing against my oral statements. Yes, I’m speaking to you as I munch away at your pussy-and-ass offering. The sweetness of your livid moans and trembling makeup bid me into being the best at my anal and cunny-tasting business. Does your pussy and ass notice the ongoing patterns and switch-hitting chaos my mouth rains down on your nasty region? Do you, my dear, notice how self determined and eager I am to stamp your derriere with my sticky oral substance? I’m sure you know I’m here for business, and I’m here to give your mind, body, and soul tingling bliss and never-ending satisfaction. Your countenance deserves my mouth play and the other awful acts that are attached to this sex game. I’m your guy; I always will be. Those thick hips and mesmerizing cougar ass cheeks are my dearest companions in this ongoing feud where I never know who will be the victor—my lascivious mouth or your orgasm-craving slit. Why did I just spew out the aforementioned group of words when I know my tongue and lips always conquer your nether region with hardly any work from my end? Maybe I want to be humble; maybe I want to exact some type of sportsmanship. The bottom line is: right now, I’m swatting at your pussy and its clit (with my tongue) like a nigga does a room full of flies in the middle of the day. But, this swatting doesn’t involve winged creatures—well, that’s if I don’t factor in your spread legs (wings, if I adopt Rod Stewart’s take on the body part from his song, “Tonight’s The Night”) into the equation. Anyway, I don’t want to run too far off the beaten path in this less-than-holy thing we’re encased in right about now. So, let me concentrate on how I’m going to provide your cunny with more of my mouth manipulation and mischievous techniques.
There has been a contingency plan in place to take care of your pussy for quite some time now. That’s why I’m in the bed with you at the moment licking away at your half-starved pussy. You won’t allow my mouth and tongue to even get a water break. You’ve pinned my face in between your legs because you’ve mentioned that I was supposed to come over and chip away at that ass and more with my oral-digging tools. But, you say that I always stumble around and find a way into fucking that snatch with my burrowing cock. There might be a bit of truth to your claim, but can you blame me? The way that warm pink pussy feels on my anxiously-awaiting cock motivates me into rushing to plant my penis into your aerated soil. I’m accomplishing your bidding now, though. I’m flooding your clit compartment with my menacing breath and the oral attachments that produced the mist. I hold those thick thighs up for my eyes to feast on while my dirty mouth partakes of your vaginal nectar. Your asshole and its asscheeks get a whiff of my seducing mouthpiece. Both that pussy and ass of yours have been parched from the lack of receiving my nourishing condensation to their hidden region. Since I’ve supplied your pussy-and-ass garden with the necessary nutrients to sustain their condition, will they produce an abundant crop for me? Will both pieces of your nocturnal splendor contract and throb for me from the intense manipulation of my freaky tongue. How does the poke of my tongue against that anal opening fancy you? Does the intensity drive your long-awaited libido into a maniacal state? I intend to amaze you with this ongoing head to your pissing-and-shitting section. Yes, I know; I’m a conveyor of despicable words and unspeakable deeds. But, you love me for the mouth antics. That’s why you still have my face posted on your property with that “No Trespassing” sign. Am I the only person allowed to penetrate the sanctity of this pretty pussy and ass?
I don’t know why, but eating at your snatch at the present time brings me into remembrance of Sheena Easton’s sexy ass, and that steamy song of hers, “Sugar Walls”. I mean, you are one sexy-ass Caucasian cougar, maybe that’s why. Hell, I have no clue what makes my brain tick, but I am well aware that this tongue of mine is implanted inside your sweet honey dew. That’s perfect enough for my undying thirst to feed. Even more, I feel as though I’m on some stage right now performing for your affection. I’m showcasing my pussy-and-ass-eating talents, wouldn’t you agree? And, I’m pulling back the veil, literally–my tongue is the entity, actually, that’s parting your outerwear to expose that thick-ass forestry. Your vagina is a hairy mess, but I’m into the wilderness, and my mouth is wide open and anxious to gather up “any” and “every” damn scrap of whatever lingers around in the damp getaway. Your archaic, mouthwatering symphony spills from your throat and lends themselves to my curious ears. My headphones suck in the naughty expressions, and I’m motivated to causing more chaos to your fanny. I tell you to calm down a bit; you have neighbors below. Your reaction to my suggestion is, “Fuck my neighbors!” (Well, damn!) My response is simple–be quiet, and just eat. Your bed squeaks and rattles to the bouncing and wreckless behavior. The pandemonium is kind of sexy; I’m lying; this shit is mindboggling and kinky as fuck.
For a moment there, I thought maybe I was exasperating that countenance of yours; we both know my pussy-stimulating tactics could never meet with disapproval from the likes of you, though. I know; I appear a bit haughty, but I’m just stating a clear and concise fact. I’ve been at this mouth-on-everything gig for quite some time now–a minimum of 30 minutes. And, you still refuse to let me surface for air. You must surely be convinced that I possess gills. I mean, sure I can go a round with the best of them. And yes, I’m the pound for pound best pussy consumer on this planet–but goddamn, though. I’m only human, my dear. My neck is aching, my tongue is tired, my jaws are weak, and my cheeks are on fire. Your ass doesn’t care about my condition; you just want my face pressed against your clit and that backside’s rim. I get it. A third wind has just parked directly over my body, and I swear the fearsome entity has just enveloped me. I’m full of vigor once again, and I’m ready to devour more ass and vaginal spectators. The rearend and the slit commodities along with their emissions are up for grabs with my insatiable appetite. That’s right, I’m taking possession of your entire nether region. This is what you’ve begged me for, right, to pillage the village between your limbs no matter the cost? You do want me lapping away at your pussy and asshole’s surfaces until they’re no more, right? Answer me, my fuckin’ Lilburn cougar! That cat has my tongue, not yours! You seem to have the appearance of a seizure-prone person right about now; your body and mouth are spasmodic entities, so it’s difficult for you to respond to me. Don’t worry, though; I’ll be patient. I’ll just continue to lick and wait. I’ll continue to nibble at the little worm at the bottom of the tequila bottle. You’re a mess, you do know that, right? Your sphincter muscle is as tight as a virgin’s pussy, and you have inherited the composure of a stage fright individual. Simply put, you’re a shattered mess.
You’re recovering from the epileptic-like state that took complete control of you while I disassembled your pussy and asshole’s stronghold. You’re fidgeting a bit, but your breathing is returning to normal. This bed of yours has settled down and become peaceful and still. What shall we do now? I don’t even want to know the answer to that question because before I can rest my jaws and other pussy-and-anal pleasuring markers, you’ve propped yourself up on those knees. I’m at a bird’s-eye view with spread ass extremities and a hairy slide door. I need to holler out that “Abracadabra” shit that conjurors nestle out before they bewilder their audience. Really though, I need the powers of a shaman or warlock to get in the groove again. Or, maybe I can call on Madonna’s freaky ass; I’m sure she could work something out for a nigga. Anyway (enough with the complaining and wishing), I work myself up to the adequate position needed to get the doggy style impaling act off on a good note. You beat your pillow with a balled-up fist instantaneously upon my wood splitting that window pane open. The forecast calls for sprinkling, so I’m dealing with condensation inside the house now. Remember, the window is wide open; you never bothered to shut the damn thing. We’re both swamped even though a torrential downpour hasn’t arrived on the scene. I’m functioning even with the hand I’m dealt, and I’m moving around in this meager precipitation. Your flagrant deposits are a welcome to my hardness now that I’m up in your mix. I beat at that cushion vigorously as though your genitalia enraged a nigga in times past. I’m holding on to your hips and driving through your range with no plan in tow. I’m winging it at this fuck-on-demand scenario, and the conditions are quite ripe for my sporadic impaling. Listening to your mad outcry encourages my madness to continue to stack up pound after pound of my dick bags against your awaiting pussy wall. Of course, there’s a tear in the structure, and it leaks when I ram my bludgeoning tool against the base of it. The GREAT WALL OF CHINA is in need of a massive overhaul. It was caught in the wake of my pounding-and-plundering efforts. No longer is there one sole tear in its makeup; my battering and clubbing has produced numerous snags in the composition. Have no worries, though. The same culprit that brought about the ruckus and disorder will alone be your construction’s saving grace. Whoa is my penis; whoa is my dagger.
I’m disrupting the skin affixed to your pussy with my bombarding, hither-and-to cock nuances. Ms. Smith, you will forever be my lover and friend. I’ve grown quite attached to you because of this intimate moment we’re wrapped in. Never leave me; I care for you. The subtle hip swishing and banging at my cock drives me into an attached mode where I try to flee from your presence, but the drawing-in affect you have on my present being is inescapable. The beating of my drumstick against your drum creates a tender, thumping magic. You turn around and grace me with that long beautiful mane; I adore redheads. I adore a white woman with an abun-dance of lips. Most of all; you are in possession of the nicest backside and precious breasts that I’ve ever envi-sioned on a Caucasoid woman. That’s why I’m in some lust-filled paradise right now behind you barreling away inside of your receptive pussy jungle. I’m some adrena-line junky swinging from vines and shit here with no re-gard for my safety and upkeep. This behind-the-scenes love is gripping, literally. It’s also a bit hard to suck in. Your radiant voice shines on me as though it’s just left the presence of the moon. So, that means that your ver-bal outburst is a celestial introduction to this planet earth. Are you alien? Your sexual exposure definitely doesn’t reside on the Periodic Table. I know what I’m about to pen sounds more cliché than mostly anything I’ve ever pieced together, but plainly put, you’re out of this damn world! I’m dumping an array of my dick trash in your waste plant. There’s nothing but disgustingness surrounding the two of us for as far as the eyes can see. I’m feeling around in this shit and waste, but I’m safe and sound. I’m actually comfortable and at home here in this place that an extreme hoarder would find paradise. Communicate with me even more, and tell me how my manhood feels knocking at your pussy as though your receptive cunt is some door that my tool needs to open and walk through. Is my dick hard enough for you? Does my impaling bastard provide you with just the right amount of length and circumference? Am I pounding at that slit of yours rapidly enough with just the right amount of force? I desire to know the answers to these riddles—well, at least they seem to be trick questions to me because even though I’m a fucking beast in the bed-room, I’m oftentimes insecure and need my ego ca-ressed and stroked with your gentle hand. Answer me, my Lilburn Cougar; is my dick a treat to your backside, that watt? Sputter out more ridiculous shit while I’m tearing into your cunt hole with my menacing thrusting. Bid me to bone you like I’ll never affix myself to this moment ever again in life. Take these stabs I’m lending to your pussy. Take this bumping and grinding to your pelvic bone and cushiony-ass rump bone. That’s right; don’t just turn around and stare at me as if I’m some bubbly nigga, some nice-ass square. Let me retract the being-a-square part. I’m actually a nice guy in a way; I don’t smoke weed, swallow pills, and I hardly drink alco-hol. But, I’m no push over-type dude at all. I’ll whip a nigga’s ass if I need to; I’ll smack the shit out of a bitch if she gets out of line; I’ll swear my ass off if need be also. Now that that little bit of Intel has been supplied to you, again, what in the fuck are you staring at me like you are for? Is this a test of the emergency broadcasting system? Are you testing my hand and fortitude? I know; I get it now. You want me to hold on tight and fuck you like I’ve just sucked down a gang of Viagra and a couple of cans of the in-style energy drink. You want me branding that pussy with my black dick as if my love supply is a tattoo gun, don’t you? You want the world to know this pale white ass belongs to yours truly, right? You want me smacking your white ass until I leave remnants of my hand prints on both asscheeks. I know; you want to get kinky-ass frills and thrills courtesy of Maurice. My drippy dick, along with any other sexual participant I hold in possession, eagerly performs the appropriate duties needed to spark a flame in your wanton and primitive desires. You’re already a revved up piece of a soaked sponge. If I wring you out, pussy juice and pre-cum is going to flood our close-proximity compartment. I don’t care about taking a swim; what about you? The reply to the question is another wave of pounding on your pil-low. If you keep on abusing that stack of fluffed cloth, I’m going to have to contact Child Protective Services, you know that, right? Shut the fuck up and fuck me, you say. Whoa. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Ms. Smith. Take this cunt-draining pole in between your spread countenance; scream and disrupt the linen on your bed set as much as you deem fit. I won’t speak another word concerning my disapproval of your abusive ways. I’ll simply just impale in perpetuity.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9v2hmr/mf_you_and_i_were_never_an_item_but_i_need_to