I race through the streets of Paris to be with you. My cock aches. I have been too long away at dreary meetings with corpulent German businessmen in Frankfurt, while your delicate and warm body awaits me in our flat in the rue de Rivoli. And now, finally, I park my Mercedes and look up to see you in the window, diaphanous night gown blowing gently in the cool breeze off the Seine. The mischievous wind gives me a tantalizing glimpse of your precious bush and then takes it way as quickly to torment my erect cock that has been hardened for you so desperately from the Belgian border.
Now I am breathing hard in anticipation of your scent and touch. After an impatient ascent in the old, slow, creaky elevator, I emerge and turn to the door of our apartment. The hall lights extinguish themselves as I see your body darkly, backlighted in the doorway. You are nude and I can see a faint but encouragingly shiny dampness on your pussy lips for which you spread you legs slightly to show me that you have anticipated me too.
My strong arms sweep you off your feet and grasp you close to me. You wrap your legs around me and mark the silk of my suit with the wetness of your pussy at the big bulge at my crotch, just as women have marked their men for a million years, to signal their territory with their hormonal excretions.
A single candle glows from the bedroom. We hug and feel each other in the gloom of the foyer. I push the mound of my erect cock against your belly so your uterus can feel it, as I bury my face in your flowing hair and kiss your neck. One hand is on your upper back to press your breasts against me, while the other feels your buttocks to remind my libido of the feel of their silky softness with your rippling muscles underneath.
“God, I needed you.”
“And I you. I’ve been hard for days.”
My mouth probes yours. We mingle wetness and tongues. I gently kiss your eyelids. I probe your ear with my hard tongue to promise greater and larger versions of penetrating pleasures later.
I pin you against the wall and drop to my knees, spreading your legs. You thrust your mound towards my mouth. How many times have I sucked you against a wall and yet it never loses the attraction of my first iteration of your aromatic juices whose taste I treasure so much and whose fragrance brings my cock to its full rigidity.
I put my mouth fully over your vulva. The tip of my tongue trifles with your erect clit and then slides back through the trough of your pussy to the back of the rim of your vagina. Then back again to your clit.
I lick your inner pussy lips. I threaten penetration of your vagina, but then retreat to licking your clit. I am drunk with the scent of your sex. My huge cock presses against my clothing. I cease bluffing and slide my tongue slowly into your vagina. My hands, which have been cupping your buttocks, move slightly. You feel the pressure of a finger on your ass hole just as my tongue slides into your honey pot. In and out. In and out.
I shift my mouth to the ring of pussy around your vagina while my tongue is inserted. I proceed to suck the rim of your vagina while my tongue slides in and out of your soaked tunnel. I massage your ass hole. You shudder and gasp with your first of climax of the long night ahead.
I can no longer contain my lust for you. I rise to whisper in your ear, “Kiss my penis, my love.”
Now you lower yourself to your knees and open my pants. You disentangle my cock and it leaps out, a soldier at full attention to your service. You admire its size (almost 8 inches by 2 inches) and its esthetics (dusky purple head shiny with heavy tumescence purple veins vining its shaft) as you gently caress its length to test its firmness.