Fucking: Part 4

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Photo by Sarah Moon

It seemed to glow in the soft night light, a perfect specimen of manliness, inches from my red lips. My tongue dashed madly around his beautiful tip, tasting his secretions. He tasted of everything delicious that I can imagine, a savory, bittersweet blend of salt and sugar and lust. Lust being the main ingredient. Slowly he entered my mouth, as if he was testing the waters before taking a dive. He placed his enormous hands gently on the back of my head, stroking my hair.

There was an aura of sensuality floating around our bodies as I took him in farther and farther. I could feel his veins pulsate as I quickened the pace, our tempos came together, fluid and innately human. He was murmuring words that I did not understand as I fucked him deeply with my mouth. He came in the back of my throat in a hot, salty stream, a geyser erupting in my mouth, a precious liqueur, a condensed version of his masculinity. His body shook for a long moment, his eyes were closed as he gently pulled me into his arms. A sexual act often overshadowed by a certain form of brutality took on an immense feeling of benevolence, of unexpected tenderness.

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