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My own secret life 
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Take, eat
I love it when Angel flops down on her back: She flops down bonelessly, just like that: Eyes closed, thighs wide open: ready for eating: willing to be eaten. Could it be that she isn't eaten enough? Unlikely. She knows what I'm hungry for. I grab her torso with both hands and yank her pelvis to the edge of the table, grab the pillow and shove it under her ass, put my hands round her knees and push her legs further apart, rest my palms on her thighs: Kneel down between them: Before me, long peonycolored lips. I pull her apart with my two thumbs: Release her: She closes, prim: I prime my tongue with saliva, then suddenly run up her slit, prod her apart: Raise my head: Pull her apart again with my thumbs: There is her hole: A tiny nubbed shadow pretty in pink. There is her hole: Surprisingly small, like the thruway tunnel mouths we'd see up ahead of us, driving East for the summer when I was a child: Tunnel mouths little more than the height of a VW bug beneath thousands of feet of the Alleghenies— Digging to Thailand.... There is her hole: Slick like a colored plate in a medical textbook. Variety meat. Membraneous offal. Closing my eyes, I search out fold after fold with my tongue: Tuck myself into each crevice: Wriggle against each wall: Follow each furrow: Comprehend for the first time the idiom mon petit chou— Pleat her sticky. Pry her apart. What does she feel when her lips part? "So good. So good." Her clit like a shy snail's small foot poking out of its shell: I take her whole mound in my mouth and suck noisily, suck with intent: I want her to hear: I want her to hear me sucking her at the same time she feels my nose scraping her stubble: feels my inner upper lip smearing her clit: feels my tongue driving her open, swirling down to her hole, up her hole, up her hole, up her hole: "I love you! I love you!" NOTE Welcome, Fleshbotters. A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk... {300} 9 Comments:
if only ALL men had such a passion ofr cunnilingus. By
I hate to be unromantic—well, no, unromantic is exactly what I want to be—but to a prostitute sex really is about business. By
no worries, my pleasure love. By
oh no - just meaning that sex is such a large part of their day, their lives. true its their business and their livlihood....but the meer fact that they have to be thinking about it. i mean unless they totally decompartmentalize their "work" from their other life. By
@la petite devergondee, you need to take a stroll darlin', down a very dark street when the men are circling and the work is painful and bloody. Then go home to a pimp that'll 9 times out of 10 beat you senseless and it's a beating that will be kindest part of your night. Experience that, and then come tell me you have sex like a prostitute. By
Hi Lili! By
I'm just glad you're back, and for my two cents, I think that anyone with half a brain who reads VLA could hardly think that you glamourise the business of prostitution. By I have no problem with legalizing brothels and prostitution is already legal. My only concern is that any brothel legislation won't cover or protect child prostitutes, because that will always be illegal. So what happens to all the kids? I’d like to see more focus on the huge problem of underage sex trade workers. Women can take care of themselves, children can’t. By
I've never understood the attraction of a child prostitute. It's creepy. In legalese, you might call it an "unconscionable constract." By All characters and situations fictional. Copyright (c) 2003-2007 by "John Psmyth."
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