Erotophoria

I admit it, I’m a hopeless tease. I can’t help myself. You lovely ladies arouse my curiosity far too much for me to have any sense of rational thought. So much trouble I get into, just for a bit of fun with you. You should be ashamed of yourselves, taking advantage of an excitable young cock like me.

Anyway… it’s been a long while since my last post. Here’s a little sex story I scribbled down after a stimulating exchange. I don’t know when I’ll find time to give it some decent action but I can’t resist sharing this barely scrawled fantasy.

Maybe I’m asking the universe for inspiration. Should I keep an eye out for any perverted chicks who might take advantage of a defenseless young hippie?

Be warned, this one is all tease!

“You’ve got such a hard cock,” she whispered, proving her point as she tightened her grip on me through my jeans.

“You mean your husband doesn’t get hard?”

“Not like this, no. You’re young… you should appreciate it,” she said, as she continued to flood my body with waves of warmth with the gentle caress of her warm and confident hand over the entire length of my erection.

“Oh, well, you make it pretty easy,” I said while I throbbed in her hands.

She chuckled before she leaned in and further amazed me with the intoxicating sensation of a well experienced woman’s kiss.

“How does your hubby kiss you?” I asked, interrupting her interrogation of the metal barbell which had not too long ago pierced my tongue.

I was curious, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to know how to pleasure this impressive piece of temptation before me in a way that her chosen lover had been learning how to do for longer then I’d been kissing girls.

“Mmm… different. But you’re not like him.”

I paused a moment and wondered if she perceived me as inferior to the man she had been sleeping with for over a decade. But before I could explore my thoughts of insecurity she leaned in close, pressing her soft, slightly rounded belly against my still hard, throbbing cock and audibly breathed me in.

“You smell good,” she assured me, before making it plain how much my aroma aroused her by breathing in more of me, moaning and grinding gently on my ‘young hard cock’.

I was convinced that she was good. For a moment I wondered how she learned to read me so well, to pluck away my insecurity with such a simple gesture before I reminded myself that it would be fair to reciprocate.

“You’re softness feels good on me like this,” I said, grabbing her plump, round buttocks hard with clawed fingers as I pulled her loins onto me.

It didn’t take long for her lips to find my neck, trailing just beyond the edge of stubble along my neck.

“Wait…” I begged.

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Tags: experienced woman, married woman, sex story, tease

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?

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Tags: bitch, desire, dyke, erotic fantasy, lesbian, oral sex, orgasm, sex story