Author: LastXForLove

The pink robe to cover me after the hottest of baths. The one that traps all body heat.

You are on the couch. Playing that video game like it is the only thing that matters. How soon I will prove you wrong.

I crouch between your legs, eyes pleading. You will not see me.

Fine.

With little purposeful movements I undo your belt. The end of the belt through the buckle. The buckle itself releasing.

I stop, look up. Your eyes never leave that game. Cars to steal and all that. Bad guys to kill. 

Through your shorts I run my fingers over where it rests. Gently but knowingly. Do you stir yet? I can’t tell. You are better at this than I am.

Through the fabric I kiss it. Caress it. You pause the game long enough to take your shirt off but still don’t look at me.

Unpause. Game on.

Hiding a smile I hook my thumbs on your belt loops and pull. Instantly you raise your hips so I can pull off these treacherous shorts and underwear. Read more »

A question for the men please. How would you describe the sensation when you first enter a woman? From asking and from reading I’ve seen it described it a variety of ways from a feeling of peace/home to the opposite being more arousing/exciting. Serious replies please, don’t message me with any nonsense just to try and sext or shock me. Thanks so much!

I scan the room, wondering who it would be tonight. It’ll probably be the Birthday Boy himself. It usually is. That, or the groom if it’s a bachelor party. A king for a day ready to disappear his cock inside me. 

I am a Lady. I always smile and say thank you.

Minutes have passed since I emerged out of darkness. But there are cracks inside my hiding place; this structure only pretends solidness.

Backstage Paul, (that’s my manager), Paul had feverishly been painting my body. We were running about 10 minutes behind, as usual. I had on a plain white cotton bikini, absorbent and easily begrimed. Paul had forgotten the paintbrush and used his hands to make red, white and blue stripes across my breasts (Birthday Boy was a soldier).

“How many ‘R’s in birthday?” His voice rising up to me. He was on his knees now, right hand paused above my navel. “One,” I said, sucking in my stomach. Not for vanity’s sake- that was later on stage- but because he was doing this with a lit cigarette dangling off his lower lip. Read more »