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mercoledì 22 gennaio 2014

I like flying Alitalia! Prose for Pros 14

                           They were two Alitalia pilots


They flew together and fucked together
Sex in stereo
Both had good cockpits and
Were never easy on the throttle

They teased me,  treated me bad
And treated me good
But there was no turbulence
Just a normal flight with 2

I did not soar but enjoyed
The take off
They were in good shape
Good aerodynamics

They were funny at times
Clicking away taking pics of each other
Fucking me
From the front and behind

I was their cabin crew
Destined to serve their whims
And their fancies
To maintain their desires

They navigated me well
Seeking the lights
 That would bring me home
To an orgasm

I touched down
Softly, gently
It was good
But the earth didn't move

Not in the normal way
But it was fun
Better than flying solo?
Not really. Just different

Maybe they should have taken me together
Now that would have been good
But they were too fond of photographs
To contemplate DP

A pity!




dariax@hotmail.co.uk

0039 3281769818

domenica 8 dicembre 2013

Prose for Pros2

                          

He said my eyes sparkled-and that wasn't all



I really don't know why him
He wasn't a super stud, he wasn't even handsome
But he licked me in a special way
A decadent way, a 'wow I'm enjoying this' way

His tongue seemed to explore, a Christopher Columbus explore
His tongue bobbing up and down, swaying to and fro
Like the 'Santa Maria' in a swell
And it did swell, his cock and my lust

His cock and my desires
And my desires soared higher than his cock
When he entered me I could hear the squelch
It was an embarrassing squelch but he rose higher from hearing it

He slipped in and out of my lathered hole
Sometimes slithering outside but I quickly returned him
I don't know why my orgasm was so loud
So intense, so fulfilling, but it was

And I'm not sure why him
But he was really, really content
I've given a whore an orgasm content
Cat got the cream content, And why not?

It was very good! My eyes did sparkle and he would always remember the sparkle!

mercoledì 20 novembre 2013

If Poetry be the Food of Love.

I AM A CUNT!

He enters my bedroom sheepish, his feet shuffle
He looks at me, my face and then my crotch
He looks at my crotch and again my crotch

He slips onto the bed, still clothed,still robed
He looks at my panties and then my crotch
He looks at my crotch and again my crotch

He slides a finger inside my panties and waits
He looks at his hand and then my crotch
He looks at my crotch and again my crotch

His fingers pull the elastic, of my panties
And it is there to see, my crotch
He looks at my crotch and again my crotch

He slides my panties along the contours of my legs
And I am naked and there is my cunt
He looks at my cunt and again my cunt

He lowers his head and bows and groans
His lips and his tongue say hello to my cunt
He embraces my cunt and licks my cunt

He speaks to my cunt in the tongue of sex
He converses in tongues the language of CUNT
He mumbles to my cunt, he groans to my cunt

He cuddles my cunt with his cheek
Rubbing his stubble against my cunt stubble
He washes my cunt and my cunt washes him

He slides a finger and then another in my cunt
They slip like eels into a bathing cunt
He moistens my cunt, he liquidises my cunt

He doesn't want me only my cunt,my cunt
I am a gooseberry, an intruder, the cunt is courted
The cunt is desired, the cunt is possessed

And they talk for hours and they talk in groans and they talk in damp canyons and they talk in loud moans and they talk with great passion and they talk with an intimacy and they talk with love, a love for the cunt,my cunt but for the moment his cunt!