Desperate to Fuck

She fucked me in the moment when I was desperate to fuck. She knew I was, and welcomed my feelings. She opened a space for me, a space of kindness, and loving trust, and traveled to see me, and was patient as I got to know her. When I wanted to smell and lick her vulva, I was welcome. When I was thirsty to lick and sip from her vulva, I was welcome. When I asked her to ride my face, she offered herself immediately, and when I said I wanted her to masturbate on my face, she did and took her pleasure and orgasmed generously. When I wanted to fuck her, we both wanted the same thing, which was for her to ride me to the depth of her pleasure, and she did until she was sated, revealing her guttural sounds and showing me her flushed face as she orgasmed over and over, allowing her pleasure to cascade over me. Then she invited me to relax onto her body, and she held me as I wrapped my legs around her thighs and squeezed her hips and fucked her until I let go into her warm and resonant cosmos, moaning each nuance of my pleasure to her. I love her plump lips and the loving, generous woman who offered them to me. I love to fill my mouth with her, and fill my thirst and worship the beauty of existence.

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