black8elise, Author at NSFW story

[MF] [cuck, Msub] The Soul of a Desi

Nothing delights my heart more in this world than the first flight of a seagull after days of wavering and the soul of a desi.

Dressed in an orange-red saree with yellow floral motifs and fragrant in the aroma of rose jam, her enchanting figure catches your eye from afar.

Her soul as a wife, mistress, and mother is the marvel of the perfect deed of karma.

An emancipated desi treats both her husband and lovers with perfect grace, giving no rises to superfluous doubts or jealousy.

She cucks her husband several times a week with well-endowed bulls, true ithyphallic embodiments of Shiva, maintaining a well-accomplished balance between her sentimental and erotic life.

Her husband will be submissive and at all times at her disposal, always reliable companion, receiving his sloppy seconds with adoration and gratitude.

On Sunday at noon, when the traditional meal with the extended family takes place, prepare the delicious *Nipples of Venus* for dessert, as you have learned from the famous movie *Amadeus*, arranging on wide plates huge boobs with nipples of various colors and, if you feel like it, combine them with erect chocolate phalluses with the tips facing the sky. Read more »

Pregnant Again

Alexandra is pregnant again. She posted her #sixmonths picture smiling happily with her hands on her belly.

The comments section was filled with short congratulatory messages and stupid hugging gifs, but nothing from her brother.

I’m surprised he didn’t write how happy he was for her, knowing how well she fucks her husband every night, living in perfect harmony, while he is still rubbing his cock, stuck in a complicated and insecure distance relationship.

He has known her husband for many years, from the time he secretly came to their house and fucked his sister in the other room, like two rabbits in heat, while he listened to the moans and the creaking of the bed through the wall.

What could be more gratifying than this? How can one let the envy darken his mind, and not enjoy the happiness of the others?

His lack of feedback disappointed me terribly.

Family matters …

The Song of the Muezzin

The song of the muezzin calls for the midnight prayer. The mosque is colored vertically in red, yellow, and blue with the help of lamps that reflect light in various colors.
The dome is colored circularly with the help of jelly green lights.

*You little vixen, let me introduce you to the revealing ways of the faith!*

>Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.
I’m down on my knees begging you to teach me, please.
Show me the way to your truth and light, father.
Yours,
Wickedly

*Woman, you have to follow the shaft of my manhood to attain enlightenment!*

He grabs her head with strong hands and, while caressing her hair, starts rubbing his dick on her cheeks, moving it gently on her face, forehead, eyes, then pushes it into her mouth, lightly at first, timidly, then, seeing that she accepted him submissively, with more firm movements.

He pushes his member between her lips back and forth for minutes, using her mouth as a sexual object until he feels the boiling lava trying to drip out from the pipe. Read more »

Eulogy to Jasmine

Jasmine is our staircase neighbor and my English literature teacher, specialized in Elizabethan Era and especially Shakespeare.
You can ask her whatever, she knows everything and replies with no difficulty, from the interpretations of the sonnets up to Hamlet and Macbeth.
As a neighbor, she stays next to our door, wall to wall.
My mother taught me from an early age to respect her, to greet her politely every time we meet, and to offer her flowers every year on women’s day.
When I was growing up, my mother enrolled me in her classes.

She usually comes to class dressed both elegantly and very sexy.
Short dresses and molded on the body are her specialty, generally red or white, and, of course, without a bra – another reason we love her so much.
But the coolest thing is the smell of semen that spreads in the room almost every time when she comes in.
We think she likes to take it between her tits every morning before she shows up for classes.
But above all, she is a great moaner. We use to hear her from time to time, sometimes in unexpected moments, unleashing loudly her moments of sublime pleasure.
There are electrifying moments, amazing, in which the whole house is silent, listening to the sounds that can be heard from beyond the wall.
My father and I put our ears to the wall to listen to as many details as possible, while my mother kindly approves. Read more »

First Date

I was going to a rendezvous in the scorching heat of July. It was so hot that the women’s heels remained engraved in the asphalt of the sidewalks. I arrive at the front door of “La Riviere”, a kind of cafe – confectionery locale where they served everything, coffee, tropical cocktails, cakes, ice cream, biscuits, soft drinks. Melted tar was flowing from the roof, which the unskilled workers had used to repair cracks in the ceiling. Inside, the fans were running at full capacity, making the ladies’ colored lace hats fly in all directions.

>A woman should come to the first date with a huge, yellow-pink and fragrant rose to offer to the man, kneeling in front of him, take off his pants and take his cock in her mouth urgently, right in the middle of the street. To suck it well, with passion, as if she was feeding her entire existence from its sweet nectar.

Hearing this, my date remained perplexed, dropping the teaspoon between her delicate fingers to the plate with her still unfinished rum baba, especially considering she was my former French teacher during high school.

Why is it so difficult for women to understand my philosophy of life?

Ars Amatoria

It was a warm late June night in Ovid Square in a seaside town. Although past midnight, the town was still very crowded.

The men presented themselves impeccably, in elegant suits with flowers at the buttonhole, women of Bonton flaunted their glamorous cleavage toilets, wearing hats and lace collars.

The townspeople were art lovers, and the sensation of the night was a beautifully lit theater scene, strategically placed in the middle of the square, where two young people with perfect silhouettes were making love, the perfect example of the high-class exhibitionism. There was nothing factitious in the whole representation, the bodies of the two had not been altered by any artificial modification, everything was of a perfect naturalism.

The square was surrounded by small stalls of small traveling merchants from where you could buy everything you wanted. The aromas that came from all directions represented a mixture of popcorn, hookah, bead, cotton wool on the stick, and refreshing spirits. The elderly smoked cigars and watched the performance sitting comfortably on the oak benches upholstered with great care by master craftsmen.

Dressed in a plaid harlequin costume, I then went on stage, raising a pearl scepter in my hand. Read more »

The Fashion Style of a Modern Woman

The most suitable garment for a symphonic music concert is a translucent lace dress worn directly on the skin because it fits perfectly with the classicism of the harpsichord and cello.

For jazz concerts, I recommend a bare back dress tight on the body, highlighting your firm shapes. This fits perfectly with strings of white beads, long up to the navel, worn with a pendant.

During the day, on the street, you must wear slouchy t-shirts with a wide neckline or transparent short blouses, tight on the body, with thin straps and necessarily without a bra with a miniskirt or tight-fitting yoga pants or leggings to highlight the roundness of your buttocks and the cameltoe.

I watch you with a spyglass dressed like this, walking in front of “Cafe du Brasil”, with round and full breasts contouring sensually through the fine blouse, with the feeling that your sharp and aroused nipples almost pierce the delicate material. What could be more refreshing for a bored passer-by than this image of femininity at its finest? Read more »