Smut With A Smirk

Daydreaming about penetrating into her field of investigation as I watch her lusciously brush the red onto her newly tended fingernails. Cuticles trimmed. Nails filed to a delicious point now shimmer in the candlelight. I dream on. She smiles. She knows that she and only she has this effect on me. Others found me a chore. Hard work for hardly a reward. Just thinking of her makes me board. Hard as ... that is. Her scent so near has me nearly bursting out my barn-door. Kicking my stall. It is all I can do to keep my hands off myself. She knows. She delays. Her lips pucker as she gently blows the wet red polish. Not to hurry the drying but to tease me more. She gives me a fleeting glance. She gives my crotch a longer look. My hand precariously close in anticipation rests on my thigh. A nod from her I would be out and taken by my own hand. Instead she raised her index finger. The index finger that will smear the pre-cum around the knob on the throbbing tip, looming above her trailin...

Ginger Chunks was ready for this holiday party. Her long red hair was silky and immaculately placed in such a way as to perfectly frame the vast expanses of cleavage. Highlighting boob where she had lovingly applied her foundation make-up well beyond what should be considered proper exposure for a company party. That vast area of alabaster curvy white flesh, hugged by astounding red hair, only interrupted by equally shocking red lips and green cat eyes. She was abundance personified and displayed for effect. In January she would be "Sadie  Sadie , old married lady". This night would be the final act in her long holiday tradition of being the effervescent and wild Ginger Chunks. "Look out men, cause I'm coming to get  ya ." she cooed softly to herself. Her red lips spread lasciviously at the thought. She had her list and she was checking it twice. All these men would be naughty on this winter's night.   "Or else," she added cryptically to h...

I have worked you into a froth and fucked you with intention. My hands spread you before me My tongue takes the message to your parted and now vacant portal Y- my tongue circles under sweet nubbin, tail trails along a well worked fold, circles entrance to paradise and burrows in deep to complete the letter. O- a simple but effective circumnavigation trail of the widened gate to your sweetness. U - is all about tracing your protruding passion leaving the top open for release as it rises up to greet me. T- is all cross tongue slash pink curtain to pink curtain, the rest is decent  from clit to weeping hole with an even deeper and sweeter intrusion into the recent space vacated by my cock. A- path is clear straight up to the seething pearl, straight down to taint with a teasing hyphen again spreading tender lips apart and leaving them a quiver. S- a winding path of desire up through tender mound guarding sentry, snaking down and across succulent terrain only to...

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I could hardly contain myself when our lips met shortly after the Reno retort. Each button on her simple white blouse gave a momentary explosion in my brain as each hole gave up it’s delicate disk. When all of the magnificent cups exuding their abundance of Joy were revealed I was nearly blinded but the whiteness and expanse of material that restrained her joyous tits. With her blouse open the soft fleshy mounds swelled over their cups. I laid kisses over the bare flesh above and even slipped my tongue to taste the salty cleavage were those two mounds of Joy met. My first taste of divine big tits was a foreshadowing of delights to come. My hands were roiled by her curves. The expanse of sweet soft breast flesh had my eyes and hands fixated. I ran my hands over and around those luscious orbs as they flowed with soft sweetness under my caresses. I had found the perfect parking space between two large station wagons on a short street that dead ended near one of the railroad em...

First there was Rene: Our first Christmas together. I wanted everything perfect. Parents gone for a tropical Christmas cruise. But not before we all put up the family Christmas tree in our front room. I’m home from University on winter break so we spent the last night before their departure trimming the tree with all my favorite ornaments and bubble lights. It’s Christmas Eve and he is coming over. Haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving. Every week we are apart I ached. I fretted too. He has a new career. He is making money. No longer the broke student I met at the roller rink last summer. I was eighteen, fresh outta high school in skimpy shorts and even skimpier halter top. Skating tall on my high white lace up roller skates. I wasn’t sure if it was the skating rinks cranked up air conditioning, or how cool he looked in his tight black T-shirt and jeans, but my nipples were hard pressed against the halters thin fabric when I accidently on purpose rolled into him ...

As I pressed her sturdy five foot ten Eastern European frame against the brick wall I made one more play . My hand slowly moved up the back of her skirt hoping for a satisfying grab of her perfectly toned behind while we were making out messily on the back exterior staircase of her apartment building. All Bwanna needed to do was shake her head no. I let her skirt fall and refocused on her sweet thin lips and the slightly glazed blue passion filled eyes peering through slit sparkly eyelids. Her pleasingly pointed nose teased my pug ugly  bulbous Irish schnoz as her tongue played a arpeggio in my mouth. In the distance a car horn was honking. But progress was being made here. Just because Reno and Joy had apparently consummated swiftly in my parked Bonneville while I was working on more retrospect prey than our lovely bundle of Joy had been this, or perhaps any evening, was no need for me to break focus. “I am not like Joy.” Bwanna quietly rasped in her first genera...