(Sorry for the bowling ball analogy.)
wicked.grace: Dirty. I like it.
elbows: OK then. I bowl you across the room and the furniture goes flying.
I follow you.
wicked.grace: erm
elbows: And launch myself at your rectum. Then I’m in you like a light sabre through a knob of butter. fffshoom.
wicked.grace: No no no
elbows: fffshoom. shhhhhvummm. fffshoom. fffshoom.
wicked.grace: Stop with the analogies. Keep the butter, lose the light sabre.
elbows: What about the knob?
wicked.grace: So, you’re buttering me up.
And slipping in.
Yeah, the knob can stay.
elbows: I slide in slowly…
…like, real slow.
wicked.grace: In and then out and then in again, ever so slowly.
I can feel myself opening up to you.
Bit by bit.
elbows: I can feel myself throbbing inside you.
wicked.grace: I can feel that too, inch by inch, you’re filling me up I’m wriggling away a bit, as it’s so intense, and then coming back for more.
Pushing myself back on to you.
Enjoying the impalement.
elbows: I push myself into you a little harder as you try and inch away.
I’m not letting you get away.
I pull you on to me.
Grabbing your hips.
Pulling.
I grunt involuntarily.
wicked.grace: I’m clawing at the bedsheets and the pillows.
I’m grunting too.
elbows: I scratch your back and slap you hard on the right buttock.
Slap!
wicked.grace: I’m almost there, you’re almost all in.
The last part is the most fulfilling.
elbows: slap! slap! slap!
wicked.grace: Then everything opens up like a flower, and I feel the whole of you.
elbows: My right hand snakes around your hips to your frontal flower and slips and slides and rubs and gently pinches.
wicked.grace: I feel your front against my back, and your hand on my petals…or should that be my stamen?
elbows: My hand is sticky with your love pollen.
wicked.grace: I’m moaning with agony and ecstasy. Mostly ecstasy.
elbows: I’m pumping into you quite hard now.
wicked.grace: Yes, I’m so wet, I’m leaving a wet patch on the bed.
elbows: And squeezing you.
Slapping your buttocks.
Scratching your back.
Pulling your hair.
It’s like I have twelve hands.
wicked.grace: I’m moving against you, pushing when you pull.
elbows: And three cocks.
wicked.grace: You feel huge. And hard.
elbows: The bed is juddering.
wicked.grace: I’m biting my lip, biting the pillow, anything in reach.
elbows: I’m bellowing.
Someone starts banging on the ceiling from upstairs.
I carry on bellowing…
wicked.grace: The rhythm quickens.
elbows:…like a mad fuck-wizard.
I pull back your head by your hair and lift your legs.
wicked.grace: I’m moaning loudly.
elbows: You’re floating.
We’re both floating!
wicked.grace: I’m calling your name.
elbows: A frantic floating fuck!
I’m calling yours!
I can’t hold out much longer!
wicked.grace: I’m going to come with you.
I’m going to judder as hard as the bed.
elbows: You’d better be quick then—I…I…
wicked.grace: I reach down and touch myself to quicken my orgasm.
I’m coming with you.
elbows: aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh
I am screaming.
Weeping.
Coming from every orifice.
wicked.grace: I’m speechless.
Just breathless.
Still shuddering, weak-kneed.
elbows: I’m blind.
And deaf.
There are lights behind my eyes.
I cannot breathe.
Where am I? I feel your breath.
I open my eyes.
wicked.grace: I feel your cum pumping into me, like foam from a fireman’s hose.
elbows: Nice analogy. I look at you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.
I kiss you tenderly.
wicked.grace: I’m pink-cheeked and sticky.
I kiss you back.
Softly.
elbows: I hold you.
wicked.grace: I run my hands through your hair.
elbows: I pinch your cheeks and punch you on the shoulder, like the Fonz. Eeeeeyyyyyyyyy.
wicked.grace: Eeeeeyyyyyyyyy.
elbows: Heh. You know