Sex with a Pinch of Philosophy

The room was filled with hot, breathing, nude bodies that filled it. It was filled with the language of sensuality, and sexuality. The loudest voice in the room was sex. Each body is like a radiator emitting its sexual heat to anyone who would participate in its sexual fire. Sound imagines a body. I stop and listen to it. The sound is swamp gurgly, as moist as a frog. Sound conjures a body, or rather an organ, jerking, purple and fleshy. Skinned cunts are everywhere. Hairless cunts smooth as a baby's yesterday.

Sound moans in sudden release beneath the surface of language. A voice doesn't have a body. Sex doesn't have a body. Sex is being unpacked into bodies crying out for touch, and exploratory probing, via someone's fantasy imagination. The gender of sound fills the room. I only eat people I crave for. I observe clandestinely the pleasure of others. A brow elevated above a short cropped pubis bone. Dinner is being served.

An imagination cannot act on its own substance. I think of those intense experiences of touching friends, and cousins, during my childhood, in mutual exploration of our bodies, completely innocent of what we were doing. Beautiful stories, regardless later on, whether we liked men or women. I was brought up during a sex negative era, but that didn't stop us exploring the holes within each other.

I was obsessed with pussies. I was obsessed with bottoms, panties, vaginas, breasts, legs, these vivid snapshots from the past. The fever of feeling increases. Oh man!. Sex was a transmission box hiss, every time I saw a pelvic snap on the metro. I was brought back into the room. Sound brought to me the sound of moving flesh, against animal flesh. It was delicious. Sounds of moaning, sexual screaming, adulterated fucking. Sex is a type of hallucinogen. You smoke the hookah.

You must leave who you are outside the door. The tight animal movement of jigging cocks, gorging in and out of holes. Two big eyes grabbed the top of a guys foreskin, and pulled down the skin, revealing an oily head, and the mouth, and tongue go to work. A woman with a pair of nipples like hard dowels excited me. I slid my hand into the soft warmth of her arse crack, and immediately could feel the crenulated heat emanating from her anus. I withdrew and moved on.

Birds living in a cage, think flying is an illness. People keep to the script when they are fucking in their urban houses. Every guy has orgasm as his first goal. He leaves her wanting as the drips of his orgasm, lava from her cunt onto the clean sheets. The mind has a certain freedom, but not to decide the actions of the body. The body decides. The chemicals decide. Sex decides.

The men moved on from the women, their cum funneling down the creases in their thighs. Their soggy cocks growing limp. They moved off into the room next door to recover, because one was never enough, in this sex-charged environment.

She was around 45 years, and she squatted over a guys face, and was pissing into his open mouth. Her urine was jetting, forming bubbles in his mouth as he hungrily drank it down. There is something for everyone here. Every twisted bent that involves sex.

The room smelt of fuck. Of he fuck, and she fuck, and even gay fuck. Bellies against butt cheeks. Pelvis on grinding pelvis. Touchdown of the pubic bone. Total random people getting banged up. We each have a different mix of the same thing. We wallow in the swamp of sex. The mind which imagined it. The body which actions it. A body must have the sensations, no matter how filthy of itself.

What happens when it becomes unclear where the body ends, and the natural begins. Bodies just rawdogged by deep understanding. Most people I know are afraid of their own bodies, never mind the body of another. We have created the body into a sin.

Fucking is to hear the sound of our sexual bits in the Vaseline. Sex is sound made naughty. Sex is full of real sounds. Lugubrious sounds. Swampy sounds. Sounds of farting from the cunt, of squelch, and he grunts. Let sex be. Do not try to sanitize it. Sex is raw, and is the body's pleasure. Like I said before, sex is sound in the Vaseline. Semen spilling is sizzling foam on the pubic beach. Her moaning is to ride on. In sex we find our way to ourselves, and the understanding is we are sex, through, and through. We are formed, and informed by sex. Sex without churchy morals, and societal norms.

That is why you cannot be there. You cannot control or direct. Sex is to fuck whoever is available. There is no shame. Sex steals peoples genitals. Sex steals peoples mouths, lips, and tongues. Sex steals peoples bodies. Eat me up, or else I am going to eat you up. We cannibalize our bodies. We taste blood and flesh, and what oozes from every orifice. Sex is total absorption. Sex desires to be desired. Sex is chemical appetite.

Sex is to bite you down to the delicious marrow. I urge you bite me, take great big chunks out of me. My body is a sexual feast. Your body is a sexual feast. Sex is destined for devourment. With the frenzy of her gaze, she is all over my cock. This lack of eyelids on my cock, thank god for yours. I am intoxicated with sex. Alive with sex. Wild things don't do well in gardens. Existing sexually in my body is out-of-it. My sex is utterly selfish.

Sex performs for its own enjoyment. Have to make it last. Sex is utterly obscene. Have to make it last. Sex is self-exhilaration. Have to make it last. I want the genital whore of sex. My whoring cock seeks out the pleasures of sex. The alchemy of sex inside my body, brings out the animal in me. I want to have an orgy inside of me.

A sudden finger enters the tightness of my tender arse hole. I do not look around but sink down on the finger, sawing my orifice in half. No eyes, the snake of sex parts its charms. Now the finger is gone. The sensations that make me more naked than before linger.

A naked need, a pillar, a hole, my cock is crowded with a thousand people. Each naked body is a sight of tourism. Each fuck is a participation of the sexual tourist. A visitation to the body. My skin is quivering in anticipation. My body becomes more alive quivering. Softer the sensual skin hidden in those deeper places. My hard cock marks the visible limit of my body. Straining, taut, overly excited. My cock is swaying like a pointer out in front of me.

Teasing and tempting me is the licklicous skin of the bodies in the room. I spy a sparring of taut cocks rubbing together, foreskins back and forth, sliding up and over over ripe plum heads. Odoriferous scents fill my nostrils, honey and prune. Biscuity offerings from the dank of skin. Ammonia of fresh cum, passion of peach. Lick, nibble, bite. My cock is aching for release.

Libidinous energy, playful, and sexually creative, fills the air. Bodies like bees are making honey, poking and probing. Abandon, abandon, abandon yourself to the body's wants. Like a thoroughbred I take a woman from behind. I sink my ferocious cock into her playpen. I ravish the firm soft flesh of her proffering cunt. I bite her between the shoulder blades, drawing sweet warm blood. She yelps with pleasure. I suck her blood like a vampire hungry for life. My cock is plunging into her wetness. Her slippery wetness that sucks me down into the swamp of her. My hanging ballbag is smacking into her pubis.

How our sexual bodies fit together. What design is this?. What intelligence invented such a becoming?. None of this is my doing. It is no one's doing. Biology said, be alive with me. Lets set each other on fire. liquid fire. Arousal fire.

My hand is on your breast, I can feel her heart beating faster, harder. I am aware of someone watching me fuck her. This thrills me to go harder. Sex and lust are inseparable. Lust powers up my body. I like to be looked at while engaging in sex. Oh desire, taste my senses. My ball-sac is a loading gun filling the liquid chambers. I can hear a guttural grunting coming from somewhere inside me. Animal. I am a sexual animal on the Serengeti plains. A big cat fucking his lioness. My sleek cylindrical hardness ejects its milky climax. Lust of the eyes, the quiver of bodies in sexual abandon. Animal passions released. The pulsations at the base of my cock die down. A wobbling moan, mixed with whimpering moans. I withdraw my nervy, dark cock from her luscious lips.