Wild Desire

Sharing their experiences as a writer. Pouring the remaining bottle of bubbly, as they praise each other's writing styles and habits that made the other somewhat jealous.

"Wow! Your taste in adventure goes a long ways, Stanley," says with a touch of jealousy.

Setting both empty glasses to the table in order to try and seduce one another while the ship rocks harshly back and forth, tossing her onto Stanley's swelling, she had been rubbing, as they topple to the soft carpet floor. Eyes roaming over the two slits of her creamy thighs, feeling the emotions spreading, soaring, with each intimate kiss they gave each other out of spite and love.

"Oh Stanley, I never figured you for a good kisser."

"Then you can't possibly know me, Shelly."

Shelly begins to tease Stan all over again as his breath became heavy, eyes a blur, and throat dry as a bone. Just when Stan seizes one of her 34 D'S that Stan had managed to capture and bring to the surface, this catch of the day. Feeling its soft texture in one huge gulp.

"Oh, you naughty boy," Shelly says, once her fingers had slide down his fronted. "You must be a tit man!" fearing what he might be feeling, seeing, in her eyes that were weakening and drawing nearer to Stanley's mouth, again.

"Oh Stanley...what am I to do with you?" She adds, lying flat on her gorgeous back, across the brass bed, and opening up a gap to taunt Stan's hideous mind some more.

Shelly sent these same cravings through Stanley's heart that lead him to total ecstasy, back home in that quaint motel room, where an unknown once raped him. Sensing these same vibes when Shelly took aim at his throbbing manhood being pulled out by Stan's warm fingers to share with Shelly it's charm and size, which made Shelly's heart, beat much faster.

"Oh, Stanley darling," Shelly says, placing firmly her palm flat between her chest. "Oh, wow!" Amazed of how well Stanley's vital organ had been structured.

Cabin grew silent as Stanley works his eyes casually over Shelly's firm bosoms. With her thighs spreading evenly apart, slowly, allowing these tiny glistening sparkles of her long gown to fall between her passionate legs. While she twirls, and wraps her ravishing hair around two of her slender fingers. Waiting his answer of wanting to make love.

"How about another type of quickie?" Stanley said convincingly, as though such beauty in her lovely eyes excited him, seducing him even more with more companionship.

"Anything you want, darling," Shelly said, wetting carefully her red cherry lipstick, Stan smelt, with a suttee sweep of his own uncanny lips attacking such poised lipstick.

Suddenly Shelly begins to encourage Stanley to take down her tight fitting dress. Once she exposes her cat-like eyes for Stan to admire such soothing stares that were convincing him that she could indeed satisfy him sexually.

"You're a very mysterious feline," Stan says.

"But you like me this way...hum?" Replies, batting her lashes like some old floozy.

"Yes I do. I do enjoy your company," saying, with eyes galloping up and down such nudity.

"So, are you going to call me your mysterious mistress, darling?"

Stanley took in a deep breath. "Yes, yes I will," he said, watching the reactions of his mighty sword as Shelly does the same, but with more significant reasons.

Shameful thoughts and visions guide his horny eyes to her hoisted gown. Abolishing all thoughts of any other he had felt so strongly about. Vanishing into the haze.

"How about me Stan!" Cries a petite voice inside Shelly, sounds of a spoiled rotten rich girl.

"Huh!" Stanley gestures, despite the anguish and suffering Shelly, too, does most desire.

"Who was that?" he adds, with haste.

"Oh? What sound, Stanley darling?" she says, insisting that he must concentrate on her.

Stanley's hand continues on recklessly up her gown. Exposing the Garden of Eden, matching her long wavy hair. Parting like the Red Sea. Brushing the glistening fibers back from her smooth shoulders that expose the harden brown nipples Stan was most interested in discovering when Shelly had disrobed herself before him and to sit upon his bed, amongst other things, clogging Stan's mind.

"But whose voice was it?" Stanley cries.

"Forget her! I mean it! Hell, just let me make love to you!" Saying with much hostility.

Shelly tosses the gown to the shag carpet. Once Stan was completely naked and lying against her nude flesh where he reaches around her and fondles both of Shelly's breasts as Stanley kisses so gingerly her; soft smooth shoulder, spine, and warm neck that made Shelly reach back and clutch his raw sword.

"Mum, your such a romantic, darling," saying as she felt the rhythm of his touches and kisses.

Stanley's mouth was dry, hands perspiring, while his heart pounds vigorously to the child-like voice he yearns to hear again that spoke almost like French.

"Make it come back Shelly," he said, soothing Shelly more, when he kissed her charming rump. Than rolls her over onto her bare back to see this brief vision in her lovely eyes again.

"Come on Shelly." Begging.

"No!" she shouts.

"Okay, I won't pressure you anymore about that petite voice I heard coming from your sweet lips, saying, when he heard it again once he was atop Shelly, briefly saying weak. "Oh, your feverish torso is so kind to me."

Making wild passionate love to her warm sinful body was the only thing floating inside his mind, allowing his kind affectionate hand to slither between this transparent garment, another had worn, and soothe the pain and hurt she felt easing, once his hands had clinched both breasts.

"Oh baby. Must name you Congo!" she utters, with little resistance.

"Oh yeah, but why?" he asks, when a childish chuckle raises his dark brows. Searching for that petite voice in Shelly's concerned eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that!" Ordering Stanley to stop. "Are you some kind of pervert that enjoys getting-it-on with a woman's eye and not her womb!" Shelly adds.

Moonbeam feasted along the two heated torso's battling for position when suddenly ten sharp nails dug huge ruts in Stan's bare back that brought more moans to surface, and rich blood streaking down the spine of Stanley.

"Okay, Okay! I will stop searching for her in your eyes," Stan says, looking away from Shelly's eyes, just when the shy child appears in the blonde's pupils. Making Shelly giggle something awful when the child must have told a dirty joke.

"Hey sweetheart, what gives?" Says the leader of this unit of mob members, barging into the small cabin.

"Why don't you go find your own woman!" shouts Stanley, wearing a deep frown, using his toes for leverage as he continues to enjoy the soft sounds seeping through Shelly's lips, belonging to her other hideous half.