Musk of Desire, Moan of Despair

Your hair, so long it wraps around me; your fingers choke me and I begin to feel relaxed.

You feel my body unwind and you chortle.

Your fingers quickly find their purpose and bring me quickly, violently, over the edge.

I squirm and writhe beneath you. And you grab my long hair this time. You force my mouth around your manhood and I struggle to survive the onslaught while relishing the feel of you.

You smashing into my face, my throat dilating and, and, and fighting and I can't get away. You hold me firmly.

Your sub-dermals shine in the black light, like your skin, like my skin.

I close my eyes and lose myself inside of your over attentions.

Please don't stop. Don't make this end.

I'll be here waiting in the end.

Your fingers slam into my mouth, soaked with my juices, I gag and you tell me to be a good girl and swallow.

Clean your hand. Your fingers.

I obey. You stroke my tongue like I am an object. And an obsession. A toy.

You slap me, you shove me down again and you make sure this time I'm so incapacitated I can do nothing but receive you.

You enter my mind as surely you enter my mouth. I swallow you whole, though I might choke a little bit.... I enjoy your hands over my head and the feeling of your dick as you force it. Inside.