A Flame in the Night Ch. 08

Therein, my mind celebrates how you're still restrained and can't get away from my horny riser. And with all those flavorful imaginations dancing around in the wit of my cock, your hot box continues to work on me. She presses me, and squeezes me. And she tries to bend my sore, sturdy arrow. But we go about with our lovemaking, while simultaneously my big bulging boner flares wider, warms hotter, and flips round 'n round with excitement.

Except, eventually I've struck base. And as of now, I've run aground with that spongy, tickly sensation inside the tight squeeze of your scoop. And with that, fatally I turn enamored with your body--and your hair, and your arms, and your mouth, and your entire everything.

Physically and mentally, I'm used up. It's all too much for me, so I'm doomed to terminate! No longer can I handle the reddening, lovey-dovey stimulation that's all around the swollen gland of my sensitive dick. That's because your slick sex-tube is far too wet, and well too lubricated. Forcibly then, my balls are gonna explode and make an awful, hasty spilling!

Consequently, my defeated, beaten body reacts with vibrations and tremors from all the internal squishing and relentless pressure being applied to my throbbing, glowing instrument. And as men might do at times like these, I release my frustration accordingly. Thus paining with insufficiency, with my shaft smoldering under hot coals and my nuts on the verge of imploding, incurably I start swearing and hurling lewd and vulgar obscenities.

"Fuckin' hot pussy! Fuckin' tight hole!" I yell and holler and shake my head in stunning disbelief. Your inner bareness is absolutely amazing and overall, inside and out, here and there, your touch feels superbly gratifying. And so, with whatever strength I can muster, I go for broke and helplessly sink myself into your pleasure. My back keeps arching, my hips keep pushing and pulling, and rocking, back and forth. And again and again, I gasp, and pant, and groan desperately, saying, "Shit, yes! Shit, yes! Oh, please! Give me all of your fuckin' sweet cunt!"

"Yes, baby." I hear you just beneath your voice, softly moaning in a low, secret-telling whisper. "Take me. Enjoy me. ... Have everything you want of me."

And right there! Marked at this very second! You're way too sexy--and all too fucking easy! So I come! I come head over heels with my straining hardness bucking and thrusting, and faraway upwards inside your center. Overly delighted and overly aroused, I see your arms lifted so invitingly, and so erotically sky-high above your shoulders. Thus my dirty sack of seeds continues to lactate and leak and spew out more of that sex-laborious gift. And naturally, of course, you receive all of my ball busted spillings into your gentle, caring cup.

So it jets and gushes, and I pump out enough cream to fill your pussy. And pleasantly, I stay penetrated deep, sheathed and wrapped in your paradise. Our bodies remain joined in delirious euphoria with our sexes sliding internally, reaching crescendo after crescendo, chasing successively huge and more powerful eruptions. And it goes on, wonderfully, for a long and blissful duration, but like all good things do, gradually, the squirting and gifting and vigorous hip-thrusting lunges, finally, in due time, it does come to completion. And feeling happy and content, my tired, humbled hose sits resting majestically in your smooth, secret shelter, still floating and pulsing in pure sexual elation.

* * *

And moreover, now after coming so thoroughly and satisfactorily inside the warmth of your crevice, with your silhouette intermeshed with my own, everything is reset to right. Remarkably, the damaged bridge, which was an unmendable barrier rifting between us, has become restored and hence forgiveness is abounding in the air, and everywhere around us. Somehow, in this romantic process, reparation has taken place and your punishment is over and completed. Therefore, I remove your blindfold and free you of that temporary blindness. And subsequently, next, we mellow out, take it easy, and absorb our compassionate feelings. And even more, we return anew to kissing, respectfully, fondly, and generously.

I run my fingers through your hair, and tenderly, I caress your face. "Wow, that was fantastic."

"Thank you, sir. I'm pleased you liked me." You bat your eyes and grin. "And next time, I'll try to be better!"

"I know you will, my puppet." I smile and take another lick at your nipples. "To me, you always seem better."

And for a few more excellent moments, I stay here lying above you. We lock our eyes together and read each other, like we're gazing into the windows of your souls. Then I resume with petting your arms and also with adoring your face and body. And especially, I pay timely, precious honor to your chained-up, sexy appearance. For this seductive, gracious, and all-giving image I see of you, which is bestowed upon me, here and now, I want to preserve and cherish in my thoughts, today, tomorrow, and neverendingly.

Yet thereafter, being at peace, having received ample restitution for your prior infractions, we proceed to make up and become totally reconciled. I kiss you some more, and likewise in return, you kiss me back. Then, once and for all, ultimately, I unlock the shackles and release the binding from your wrists and ankles. Quietly afterwards, I roll my inwardly-heavy, immensely lethargic body to lay myself down at your side, ready to fall fast asleep after this very eventful evening.

However, the night is far from ended, since nearby the wick of the candle is still flaming earnestly. Moreover, the moon, so high above us, is still bustling at peak; and the morning sun, now queued on deck, is on hold and waiting, patiently, for only us.

In other words, and to speak clearly and plainly, this day isn't over--and that rest may not last long! You've been spurred with sex! And you're not at all very sleepy yet.

--end of chapter eight--

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