Glistening warm droplets of settled steam rest beautifully on her newly cleansed flesh fabric. With admiration, I absorb her splendorous image through my aroused vision. The desire to paint creamy messages onto her canvass gathers power to manifest. I become fueled by the inspiration of her divine shape. Words do not escape the watery confines of my salivating mouth. I just recline in this queen sized memory foam covered bed of mine and toy with the thought of being encircled by two beautifully soft queens. I monitor the enticing manner in which she manipulates my yearnings with the simplicity of massaging whipped shea butter into her already moisturized skin. Sensual gestures call out to my center of creative activity. It effortlessly seduces my brain waves to formulate experimental approaches to conjuring up screams from her perfectly pitched vocal tones. So I just become an intrigued observer of her self-afflicted massage therapy. Only butter carrying the scent of exotic melons exists between her delicate fingertips and the curvy ass being rubbed for reasons of my enjoyment.
During this entire segment of slowed time, she carefully through peripheral vision, acknowledged the increasing bulge beneath fresh bed linens. Her motions fell in perfect sync with the exact sights necessary for me to hunger for her flavor, which hints at a citrus influenced diet. I remember my taste buds' reaction to experiencing her flavorful syrup sliding across their oral territory. So much so, that like a charmed snake entranced by the flute player's melodic hypnotism, my hands slide down my body's tonality. The nerve endings in my visually alluring abdomen and in the deep V cuts landing below my pelvic bone, feel my fingerprints' identity. Without putting thought into my self-pleasuring efforts, I subconsciously identify with my growing extension.
Under the welcomed spell cast by the beautifully curvy diva, the wrinkles of my palms envelope my cylinder of hardness. Calm twisting strokes place pleasure into my own hands, literally. Just watching how her nude design gains a fragrant blanket of buttery softness has moved me towards the objective of physical contact. So donating to her the allowance of catching an eyeful of what she does to me is what I hope will inspire our slippery combination.
"Babe, stop that. You know what it does to me to see how much I turn you on. I love that you still hunger for me after all of these years, but I have to go to work. You know that I'll be late if we get started up. I promise that I'll take care of all of that dick for you when I get back later today... Just please don't do this to me right now... Babe, I'm serious... You know that I can't resist your spell over me... Don't lick your lips like that... UGH!! I'm turning around, you ain't right. Damn, I forgot the mirror on the dresser was right here. I can still see you playing with it... No don't come over her Naviel, I'm serious!... Naviiii stop! You're gonna make me late..."
"I'm not gonna make you late. I'm gonna quickly make you cum."
Strategically placed affectionate kisses were delightfully delivered to the soft surface that the rear of her neck offered. Nibbles and twirling tongue kisses accompanied my lips as they danced around the space that her gold necklace consumed. The taste of tangy metal intermingled with her skin's tantalizing flavor as I orally seduced her nervous system into accepting my unspoken request of bodily engagement. We interlocked deep brown irises as my baritone leaked fluidly into the core of her eardrum.
