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Je veux être la fille avec la plupart de gâteau. Regardez-moi dans la glace.
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14 November 2006



His fingers in my hair were electric, tiny little shocks from their tips to my scalp, my spine. Kisses burned over eyelids, lips, throats.

His tongue on my clit was delicious, swirling and flicking and tugging and pressing that wave of pleasurepain into my core.

His cock in my mouth was insistent, hips driving up, hands on my head, sighs from his mouth. My name.

His hand in my cunt was merciless, twisting and coaxing and releasing a flood of wetness, a gutterral roar from my belly.

His cheek against mine was gentle, cool, holding me steady in the swirling, sparkly bliss, leading me up the steps.

His eyes on my body were adoring, watching from the bed as I undressed and fitted myself beside him.

His arm over my torso was warm, shielding my bare shoulders from the cool air.

His voice in my ear was smooth, yanking at my heart, quieting my breathing, curling my lips into a smile.


Blogger Viviane said...

Nicely impressionistic, sweetie.

Anonymous Anonymous said...


stirs my imagination.....

Anonymous badinfluencegirl said...

ahhh lovely

thank you

Anonymous Anonymous said...

This is really lovely Madeline, thank you.


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