a wave that visibly descended

“Good shit,” she said, laughing further, taking hold of her left breast and deftly slipping a finger under the cloth, rearranged the fall of fabric against a hardened nipple to ease a developing strain. I nodded agreement while holding my since taken hit sternly within and proffered the smouldering joint for her to imbibe again. She closed her eyes, ignorant for a time of my offer, relaxing in a wave that visibly descended along her nubile body, slipping a finger thoughtlessly under the elastic border of her soft, white pussy wrap while the ember floated glowing in the excited space between us.

“Mmmm,” she intoned as her eyes slightly spread open. She reached again for the dope we shared. “I need this so badly,” she moaned and inhaled deeply of the smoke, her fingers still caressing the damp folds between her slowly spreading legs, raising her chest, emphasizing the fullness and staring joyfully into my eyes.

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in fiction, literature, novels, personal, writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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