Sex is sweetest when someone else does to your most pleasurable parts what you would love to do yourself, if only you could.
Just thought I might share a little something.
~Virgohippy 
P.S. if anybody asks tell them I was sleeping all night. 
I’m working on a sex story. I thought I’d share it with you, my lovelies. Though it may seem purely an erotic fantasy spurned on by imaginative desire it is inspired by a true story.
Will you read it for me?
She always wore a black leather jacket, tight pants, and a hard ass expression on her face that could make a seasoned war veteran cringe. She was one of those bull dyke lesbian chicks, complete with short cropped hair, a nose and brow piercing, a thin metal chain dangling about her wide goddess hips, and an attitude towards men that screamed, “Don’t even think about it, bitch.” She was completely hands off to anyone with a penis. But I didn’t care. I lusted after her something fierce, all the same.
I’d try to hide my unrelenting desire to ravish her naked body in plain site by flirting with her like I would everything that walked on two legs. Which basically meant I’d push things as far as I could get away with… then I’d push just a tiny bit more.
Don’t get me wrong, I always believed her when she said she was exclusive to pussy… I’d seen her kiss and grope other girls with a genuine passion too many times not to. She just didn’t seem to mind my outrageous and superficial advances.
“What are you doing?” she mocked, almost indicating a shock response as my dexterous hands quickly wrapped themselves around her plump breasts.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I seem to have lost my boobs, and I noticed yours look very familiar. They’re just so beautiful I had to make sure they weren’t mine.”
“Uh… I’m pretty fucking sure…”
“Shh… I’m concentrating,” I whispered, eyes closed, while my thumb and index fingers searched for her nipples – which became much easier when they decided to peak through her shirt, nice and erect.
“Oh, no… these aren’t mine. When your erect nipples come to attention they’re far more pretty then mine. Sorry for the mix up.” I smiled sweet, pulled my hands away, and patted her on the butt.
“Thank you?” she said, with one poignantly thin eye-brow raised.
“Any time,” I said, before I winked at her, and continued to talk about whatever non-sense was on my mind at the time.
They really were beautiful breasts. I can’t think of a more delicious pair of big juggies then the busty fun bags on my hardcore bull dyke. Especially when she wore low-cut white under-shirts, without a bra, that let her bosom practically fall out. Her’s were breasts worth fantasizing about – worthy of lazy afternoons filled with lotion covered hands and an active erotic imagination. But then, the forbidden fruit always does seem tastier then what’s in the picnic basket, eh?
Tags: bitch, desire, dyke, erotic fantasy, lesbian, oral sex, orgasm, sex story
I’m not sure where to start, so I’ll start in the past. She wasn’t my girlfriend, and though I just met her that didn’t keep me from silently wishing to lick her. Think of this as a taste of my commonly erotic whimsy:
“cute girl… la la la.” - that’s what you are. i can’t deny it. i have to say it.
you are cute, yes you are.
except you don’t like oral sex. and i feel sorrow, for some reason.
don’t tell me that you’ve already got a boyfriend, and that you enjoy sex with him without being feasted upon, i don’t care about that part, and i don’t want to hear it.
but you wouldn’t enjoy the flickering softness of a devoted mouth? the worship of your body with my lips and tongue? i don’t understand. i mean, i know there are people out there who don’t like being consumed… but… why? i feel like crying, like relishing in the pain of knowing that out of all the beauty in this world which can be appreciated this one simple pleasure… you don’t enjoy it?
i am crying. perhaps it’s just wishful thinking. perhaps i simply enjoy the rapturous pleasure of consuming my partner far too much to even consider what it must be like to be with someone who wouldn’t enjoy it…
but i’ve been in relationships with people like this before. maybe that’s why i feel sore inside. maybe i’m reminded of a powerfully passionate desire allowed to fester, burning and blistering inside, tearing away into some gaping void while i yearned for the pleasure of a moan… with a taste.
a sweet softness of flesh flowing with appreciation, lovingly tickled by the unspeaking voice of my animalistice desire for your pleasure.
you would deny me this? you would leave me feeling broken inside, with the knowledge that you wouldn’t want to wrap your legs around my buried face, beg with your rocking hips, and demand from me that i not stop until you say so?
these are not false tears. they are real.
i will never understand you.
will you cry with me? or will you consider me odd… and wonder at my peculiar desire to be so consumed by a feast.
~Virgohippy 
