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No. 523 ID: d27172
He came into the nightclub, hoping to be liked. She made eye contact and smiled, hoping to be liked. They danced together awhile, grinding sharply, their erogenous zones together, faces close but never touching; neither one could speak above the noise. She felt lucky, she loved muscular men. He felt lucky too, he loved pussy. They kept close all evening, smiling, staring, feeling nothing new, but very, very old. He was seasoned: his cock remained limp against her well-maintained ass carved from marble, frotting it forcefully into his groin, as he felt her modest breasts, she was worried. They left and drove both drunk in their respective vehicles.
They are in his home now, tongues furious and they are having now strange twisted faces. They waddles, faces latched with his hand rubbing her panties, into his bedroom. She is pushing him, playful, onto his back onto his bed she is smiling curtly, and exaggerating her hips' natural swing greatly to make her buttocks look all the more tantalizing though he cannot see them. She is fucking sexy. She peels off her gold-colored top and lets him watch her sinewy torso, respirating, her creamy tummy pale and softly twitching. She adopted an air of “well, fuck are you waiting for?” projecting as much Bitch as she could muster. This particular Subject demanded patience; the willingness to wait being a total deal-breaker, with this Subject.

He is worrying now, just waiting for her to notice the warehouse-like state of his home. For her to freak out and bolt, from the unfurnished bedroom and empty picture frames or, God forbid, notice the stock photos of black children he clearly does not own still in them. He freezes. Maybe he is thinking he may enjoy plowing this broad more if he thought she was understanding and rational and didn't conclude the best sort of reaction to slight aberrations is to run, screaming. Or he is simply petrified, though funnily enough his cock still not yet rigid. Or, perhaps, he is picking up what's being laid down, so to speak, that he's in control and giving her illusion of control. They stare. She is lowering her jeans with the hips-wiggling shake younger females find to be cute. He in perfect rhythmic conjunction begins unbottoning his green-on-white pinstripe Oxford dress shirt enough to pull it and his undershirt over his head and off and onto the floor. Light shines through the triangular gap above where her thighs meet, the sight of which fucks up the wiring in his brain and gets him immeasurably hard; his penis has a slight magnetic field emanating from it. He reaches for his belt buckle and she is grabbing his wrist, sez Ladies First very soft w/ a shit-eating grin she believes to be coy. He mentally cringes at this totally played-out cliché, nut says nothing. She isn't there for stimulating rhetoric, after all. She unbuckles her bra, unshy, casts it aside—slings it, really—lets the girls have some air. Her tits are perky and firm, w/ average, perfectly normal nipples that point mainly forward, perhaps slightly up. Perfect ski-jumps atop two grapefruit-shaped breasts. They are no paler than her other regions and jiggle pleasantly in her gait; they hang, scraping his slacks slightly as she moves to kiss and then unbuckle him. He is a firm and lifelong tit man, one that is able to appreciate an exquisite pair of titties when in front of him, although he admits he prefers a greater distance b/w the nipples and the heart. He feels she has a fine ass as well.

His slacks and boxers are off entirely. She is commenting on how big it is and sez she isn't sure if it will even fit, like every other girl he's been with. The over-enthusiasm w/r/t his member's membership status (so to speak) previously enraged him; he is more than old enough to understand pornography is a drastic misrepresentation of normal anatomy, that a ruler coupled with Google can enlighten any insecure or frightened male, that there's been studies on this sort of thing, that vaginas don't work linearly like that, that his dick is well-within a standard deviation of the average size and is entirely suitable to slay any similarly average, not overly-large vagina and sufficiently please its owner; and like where exactly did they get off anyway patronizing him like that? and did they even know what kind of a massive violation of trust that represented, to so obliquely and indiscriminately lie, as surely he wasn't the only, there, right to his face, after and about that most intimate part of his body, he decided to expose to them, these girls, who he once had angry and still swollen w/ blood berated as a flithy worthless slut and kicked her out of his apartment? But he's since learned to quell this part of himself, not take personally you know, to let these girls remark and feign astonishment at his totally average cock, to let the tide ride way out. The scent of him fills her nostrils. It is the same air of all the other dicks she's sucked, she does not know it is the scent of rotting flesh. She traces the outline of his cock with her tongue, teasing, giggling, flicking his frenulum, but making no effort to begin this night with a handjob. She is not one to fuck around. She gives him one final lick from base to tip along the outline of his urethra before she purses her lips and kisses his penis's head. She lets him watch her lips, first suckling the glans, then dragging, to slowly envelop his entire penis as she takes him into her mouth. He thinks how long it's been since he's fucked a girl that could deep throat him proper, her lips reach and recede from his abdomen w/o any gross, sticky gag noises usual in the process of oral. She unsheathes his cock from her throat, her hand following her lips, bombs on the tip, suckling, making great use of her tongue under him, goes back down again. He moans and wishes to buck his hips, but does not. Her unoccupied hand pets his hairless abdomen, traces his Apollo's belt w/ an extended index finger, suggesting play. Her eyes are forward, loosely focused on the shaft b/w them; he has closed his, feeling awkward to watch. She oscillates nursing the tip of his penis w/ throating him violently. Any man will tell you that enthusiasm comprises about 80% of a blowjob's pleasure, the other 20% by this girl. She lets her free hand dip below his knees, fondling her breast that's exothermic and pointed, her nipples almost solid how erect they are, before she reaches down below herself and feels her moisture; her back is arched to jut her ass high into the air, rubbing her clit & labia from outside her panties, moaning as attractive as she can with a dick firmly lodged in her throat, reaching along underneath her taut stomach, gracing her navel, to arrive, longing, at her pubic mound. She is frenzied in her throating, now, his cock's forceful withdrawals leaving a vacuum in her esophagus, her grip becomes firm, she slips a finger knuckle-deep inside herself, practically w/o friction, then another. Fingers scrape her cunt's anterior wall, clawing in search of G-Spots or clitoral stimulation, to match the frantic ploughing of his phallus between her teeth.
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>> No. 524 ID: d27172
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She feels the slight subtle pre-orgasmic twinge of his dick in her neck and retreats, not wanting to spoil their fun, back to sit ass-on-heels to display redundant and stupid how fucking horny she is, to paw her fingers in-and-out of her wet self, to, as if he didn't fucking pick up on her hints, clearly indicate that she totally wants the dick tonight. He watches her penetrate her own body slickly, groaning high-pitched and fondling her breast and bucking her hips quite lewdly, as he uses her residual saliva to masturbate. He is disinterested and finds himself quite bored, watching her please herself on his bedroom's white carpet as he jerks off; though she is quite visually into it and looks to be on the verge of a prophetic experience, he feels her saliva evaporate and his hand chafing his prick but wonders if it would be weird to jerk off w/ his own spit? To stop would be to admit defeat, she is biting her lip and moaning inflectively upward to sound pleading, desperate, like but notably less shrill than a Japanese porn star or maybe a seagull. She vocalizes in her mind things her conservative Evangelical adolescent self would consider monstrous and perversion: that she is a filthy little slut, a cumdumpster whose life only bears meaning w/ a cock viciously impaling it, &c. Relatively innocuous dirty talk she is afraid to say, stemming from a fundamentally naïve perception of how truly gross sex w/o bounds is. He is only now realizing she not once in the course of face fucking him sucked nuzzled or otherwise touched his balls, which were genuinely more plump than most and seemed aesthetically pleasing to most other girls, and tried to not be bothered by the incongruity. She finishes the mutual masturbation show through one final throw of the groin, a shudder and a long, slow gliding stroke of her womanly hips against a gentle upward cycloid curve to mash her vaginal lips against her palm and extend her middle & ring fingers as deep inside herself as she is able; at the moment's apex, she clenches her buttocks tightly but does not cum. She is a taut sail in high wind. She is slow in removing her fingers, seeming w/ great difficulty to extricate them, a strand of natural juices clinging to her. Finally she rises to approach him, long since run dry, just tugging on his cock desperately to prevent going limp. She straddles him, they kiss deeply, thrashing tongues, sharing breath and mashing lips; she breaks to giggle at his penis that jabs her belly button. Their nipples touch, swirl around eachother to trace eachother's areola. He snatches her wrist from her, to put her ring & middle fingers into his mouth and suck them dry of her flavor, maintaining eye contact , resolute. Licking the crevice of web between the two fingers, tonunging her fingerprint pads to know them well, he slowly draws them out, taking time to suck each knuckle. She steadies her now-free hands on his shoulders to push to stand and present her still-clothed bottom to him again before she bends low w/ her drawers to reach the earth. Her perineum, cunt, asshole are razed bare, save for a small patch of close-cropped hair adorning her pubic mound, which she presents to him, turns around, exposes her naked body to him. He sees a glimmer of moisture from sweat and lubrication, shining off the thighs that frame the gap just below her vagina; where no flesh meets and light shines through. He is totally beside himself at the sight and would not have hesitated a moment in marching over to give that teasing Bitch a hard dicking, but she approaches now to mount him face-forward on his long thighs, her own atop his. Her ass remains unsupported and suspended in air. This position affords him his first direct view of her cunt; he now can appreciate why slang for vagina is 'slit.' She has the prettiest vagina he's seen, image or flesh. Her clit is so small it could hardly be said to exist at all, nestled under her neat, rigid pink lips that radiate so much warmth his sack loosens. Her labia is surgically tight, extending no more cells than needed to cover her entrance, which is practically a faucet. He moves to touch her, but too quickly she leans her weight to him, laying him down on the bed. It's the first time he has changed position since his pants were removed. Again the Subject demands patience, rubbing herself on his dick, making eye-contact and biting her lesser lip. Her cunt lips curl around his penis, pressed flat against his belly, ground herself into him. She lifted herself up with a sigh to line up with his penis, up above, he penetrated her sinking groin. In his life he'd fuck dozens of women, often cowgirl because he enjoyed to watch their breasts jiggling with their grunts and heavy breathing. But this was the first girl to truly ridehim. To take such glee in the act, not simply bouncing south to north off his crotch. She arched her back to tap her cervix, bucked her hips in a sine wave to curve eliptically back again, clenched her pelvic muscles on the upstroke to grip his cock like she didn't plan on ever letting go. He felt more suction beneath her than when she was sucking him off. She moaned and called upon God at exquisitely appropriate points in time, eyes closed in bliss not seeming to acknowledge his existence. Grabbed her breasts and periodically stops to grind her pubic mound into his so she can lose focus, look down at his member fully inside her and resumes driving him wild. He feels his cock swallowed far deeper into her pussy than any other, its walls closing in on him tighter despite how sopping wet she is. He sits up to meet her chest and plunges a well-lubricated finger into her asshole. She is drunk enough to enjoy this tremendously, and he begins to finger her w/ a rough in-up motion. He sucks on her tit, flicking his tongue across her nipples, they shift to the center of his bed. He sits in the lotus position, she sits in his laps, to accommodate her technique. Though afforded more control here, he offers none. Her cunt is too pleasurable, he has no desire to interrupt. She begins again her thrusting, now much more linear and rising in frequency. He inserts a second finger inside her, looks at her taut belly and jiggling breasts, hands' motion growing manic and uncouth, like he was displeased by the anatomical position of her asshole and simply wanted to move it somewhere else.
>> No. 525 ID: d27172
File 135076705734.jpg - (422.08KB , 1375x1530 , 134301418318.jpg )
525
He feels her breath failing to a weakened sigh, an unhuman, guttural groan emitting from her throat, patternless spasms clench tight from her asshole and cunt; her face is twisted and frightening to him as she begins her ascent. The vaginal spasms, from her unnaturally strong kegels, quicken his progress. He feels an indescribably good orgasm on the horizon, one that will dichotomize his life into pre- and post-orgasm eras. He slams her down on her back, to assert his dominance least of all for his own personal climax. But he'd been watching her tits oscillate and her fantastic, wide ass grind on his dick, not the headboard, so as he came he only heard the sickening gunshot-loud Snap of breaking a crisp stalk of celery that was her neck breaking on his headboard. In this moment there is no fear, sinking feeling of anxiety in him, he feels quite lucidly in his cock her spine severing and the subsequent pulses of death diffusing throughout her body; he knew she was dead and he was cumming inside a dead body. He shot several—upwards of 10—thick ropes of semen into the corpse's pussy, far past its cervix into the upper chambers of its womb. The spasms are so powerful he thinks for a moment he might ejaculate his own asshole. He thinks how he knew there were serious risks involved in having unsafe sex but this is a tad unreasonable. Too late for that, he's almost faint with ecstasy and collapses fetally on his bed, staring w/ wide-eyes and horror at the body of the girl he just fucked to death. Her face is frozen in her O-face, twisted and frightening. The body begins to walk to the bathroom to clean itself of vaginal excretions and cum before getting dressed, unaware its head is only attached to its neck by skin, lolling around loosely, the severed spine jutting up outlined by skin from where the nape of her neck once was. He follows her out the door naked as a jaybird, too bewildered and freaked the fuck out to think to clothe himself, to watch the body pause, wave goodbye, and start its card, its head slowly circling the neck and skin beginning to rip and expose bloody ligaments and splintered bones. The taillights faded to disappear, and he goes in to frame photos.
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