September 8, 2012

Cracking up.

Well, here it is, fellow fornicators: the middle of the night. Again. I think of you often in the middle of the night, you know. I wonder what you're doing, what clit-wanking shenanigans you're getting up to on Chatroulette, what POV porn princess you're jacking off to. Sure, she'll suck your pseudo-cock, but will she play with your thoughts after you've globbed your knob? And isn't a little mind-fuck why you come here, after all?

I'm sincerely sorry I've been so remiss. Life in the asylum isn't all it's cracked up to be. Let's get out of here, shall we?

I slide the keycard into the lock, slip it out again quickly. Green means go.

You are waiting for me in a fluffy hotel bathrobe, an overpriced adult film playing on the flat-screen tv on the wall opposite the bed, vodka-rocks in two lowball glasses on the nightstand. They're real glass, too. None of that plastic Dixie cup bullshit. Swanky.

I slink over to the bed, a siren in stilettos, hand you one glass and take the other for myself. Cheers, baby. The liquor warms my throat and whets my appetite. It wets other things, too.

I pull your cock out from behind the robe, feel the heat and heft in my hand, bend to it and run my lips over the glistening head. I am on my knees in front of you on the plush carpet while you sit back on the bed, and you moan softly as I suck you, as I lube your cock up with my mouth, as I gently stroke your balls, as I finger your sweet puckered little asshole. I feel your body tense, you are about to come, and so I stop and we change places. I lie back on the bed and reach down between my legs, feel the slickness there, run my wet fingers over my cleavage. You slide your cock between my breasts, I push them together to create a perfect tit-cunt, and you slide your hard cock up and down between them, fucking my tits, fucking fucking fucking, and my cunt is aching for you and so fuck me, I command, and you do, my stilettos on the floor and my ass almost off the bed, you stand in front of me with your hands on my hips, pulling me to you, and you fuck my wet cunt, slam your cock into me over and over, fuck me fuck me fuck me, and my thighs tense and quiver and oh god yes fuck yes yes fuck fuck and you pull out and spurt your spunk onto my perfect tits.     

I use the bathrobe to clean myself off, crack open another airplane bottle of vodka and pour it over the ice shards in my glass. Cheers, baby. I kiss you goodbye and leave the keycard on the nightstand.