Eat me

pussy licking phone sexNow waking me is now your favorite chore. Since learning the reality that not only are men stiff as a bone first thing in the morning, that women too have something going on between their legs. You can’t help yourself, can you? Yes as we sleep our bodies go through stages. Seems that all things combined equals a very wet, pre moistened if you will, honey pot that waits for pleasuring between the sheets. You’d been sneaking over for a few weeks now, as soon as hubby drives off. I’d explained the risks but have yet to refuse your advances. Today though you found me not in the kitchen like usual.

You slow and quietly checked each room until you see me in bed. Heavy eyes greeting as your young form lifts the sheet and crawl across to my side of the bed.. moving yourself between my legs you instantly spot that hot, hairy cunt you fuck routinely. Spreading my lips exposing the moistened dew that is my form of morning wood. Licking into it brings my hands down to your head, molding and insisting which way your head moves. Lick me sweetie, take from me the gifts of this new day. MMM thank you B!!

Megan
www.mylipsrpink.com
1-888-448-6361

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One thought on “Eat me

  1. What a photo! (I love the reading glasses. Such a hot mama!)

    Here’s a story for you:

    It was almost the moment that she’d been waiting for all week — the moment that she had known was inevitable, probably for months, but hadn’t wanted to admit it. She had lain awake at night thinking about it and planning how it might happen, while she absent-mindedly ran her skilled fingertips over her pussy lips and clitoris, imagining the possibilities, only very occasionally bearing down and pushing herself against her two middle fingers to bring herself to a quick and breathless orgasm, so as not to wake her lump of a husband sleeping next to her.
    Last week, though, she had made up her mind that the time was right, and that she couldn’t wait any longer. She could feel him slipping away from her. He was becoming more and more distant, spending more time with his girlfriends than with her. She couldn’t stand the thought that one of those little whores would take him first. She needed to do something that would cement their relationship, something that would bind them together forever, a secret that only they would know. She needed to make him into a man … her man.
    She had been regularly masturbating him when she “tucked him in” before bed for several years. It started innocently enough, when he was just a boy, but now that he had gone through puberty and she could see the different, almost predatory, way that he looked at her, there was nothing innocent about it. Each night that she continued her ministrations, she could feel the tension increasing. She would squeeze her legs together secretly to get herself off while she milked his penis — he was none the wiser, never knowing that she was enjoying this as much, or probably more, than he was. It was becoming apparent to her that she needed to take their relationship to the next level, if it was to survive.
    She couldn’t erase him or the images of that magnificent cock from her mind. She thought about it day and night, and, even though she was constantly finding ways to release the tension — pushing herself against the washer/dryer while it thrummed away, standing in from the mirror while she frigged herself, straddling the arm of the of the couch in the middle of the day and quickly rubbing one out, settling down to a long and luxurious bath or mid-morning “nap” with her trusty toys while he was at school — she could never find relief. Each new orgasm just added to her frustration.
    Paradoxically, her obsession with her new, prospective, lover, improved her relationship (at least the physical side) with her husband. While in the past they might have gone a week or more without intercourse, she found herself taking the initiative with him practically every night, and even most mornings. Two or more times in a single day would have been unheard of even a couple of months ago, and now it was the norm. She would generally straddle him – either his face or his midsection – and start hungrily rubbing herself back and forth, either over his lips and tongue (brushing first, and then open, as she became more aroused), or stiffening him up by brushing the soft hair of her cunt against his flaccid penis. He always slid right into her — his penis used to seem adequate to her, but now she saw how puny it was, compared to a real man’s — and she immediately went to work on herself, reaching down into the hair between her legs and masturbating herself frantically while he thrust himself into her. She was trying to take as many orgasms as she could before he popped his load into her. (It was nothing like the thick, pearly globules of semen that emitted from her fantasy lover’s penis every night when she “read a bedtime story” to him.)
    She found herself fucking her husband noisily, enjoying the sound of the banging headboard and squeaking mattress springs, and the sound of her own voice growling out obscenities and loudly exclaiming, “oh, fuck, I’m cumming,” as she took each of her orgasms (and even sometimes when she didn’t, just for effect). She knew why she was doing this. She enjoyed the idea that her prospective lover was lying in his single bed, by himself, his erection in his hand, listening to her ecstasy and imagining what it must be like to be with her. What it must be like to be inside of her … to be taken by her. She was whetting his appetite, building to a crescendo of passion where he would be unable to resist her.
    Tomorrow was the day. Her husband would be leaving on business, and they would have the house to themselves for the whole week. She was planning to tell him to call in sick to school — irresponsible, perhaps, but child’s play compared to the depths of irresponsibility to which she was about to sink.
    She couldn’t sleep and looked at the clock — 4 am. She felt like a kid on Christmas morning. She had fucked her husband before bed, and had been masturbating since then, but she was still hungry. It was hot in the room; she felt flushed, and kicked off the sheet covering her naked body. She climbed on top of the sleeping man next to her and easily inserted his limp penis into her ready vagina. She started moving herself back and forth on him and felt the penis stiffening involuntarily inside of her. She moved her hand between their two bodies and pushed it down between her legs. She felt her pussy muscles contract in another orgasm, and she pushed herself hard against him, as she felt the waves of electricity flow through her body.
    She rolled off of her victim, breathless and sweaty, and lay languidly on top of the sheet, naked, with her vagina wet and sticky and a sheen of sweat on her body, just marking time, waiting for daylight, when her husband would get in a cab to the airport and she could take her young lover’s innocence and give him the gift of manhood.

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