Looking forward Game Angel has raised herself to a four-point stance, after I'd pulled her all the way down me, me all up her, then ground her bristly motte round my arched muscletensed holdingbreath belly:
Now only my tip touches her twatlips.
She puts her weight forward on her fingertips: squats: begins to reciprocate.
She knows me so well. She's gauged the distance: Her downstroke is soundless—Nimbly, she stops her butt short from a thwack on my thighs: soundless except for faint squelching, her sighs.
The one place our flesh touches: my juiced shiny piston, stainless: up down, in out, in out; disappearing, appearing.
Peekaboo.
I see you.
{290}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 12/04/2004 09:34:00 AM
•
4 comments
4 Comments:
Oh so cute. Heh.
The piston is relatively stationary, though, no? 'Tis the cylinder that moves, drives this engine.
DTG xxoo
Your point?
No point. Just an observation. A reflection upon the proceedings.
DTG xxoo
Tweaked. I may return to it.
I like "proceedings." Ashbee uses "operation" in much the same way.
