And many thanks to Iruntxu for her translations to Spanish.
She just needs to learn to keep her fingers on the keyboard,
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UX - Soyd
Tales of decadence, debauchery,
lust, passion, desire, seduction,
etc. etc. etc. I think you get the
idea. - Mild to Wild . . . . . . .
Erotic Diary
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LeKnight at Bluewater | home
Erotic Diary
The Diary I keep in my nightstand; . . .by mdg._
Sunday Evening - I sometimes like my quiet moments, it allows me time to think. My thoughts are not deep, I am not trying to solve the national deficit, nor am I trying to end world hunger. My thoughts are random, short, and soothing. I talk to my diary, it talks to me. I tell it what I think and feel. It tells me what I have thought and felt. I tell my diary about today. It tells me about last night, last week, last month, last year, and memories made. She called to tell me she's naked in bed, one strawberry in her navel, a line of whipped cream to you know where, the key is behind the small flower pot, her legs are spread wide, her fingers were fondling deep in her pussy, and getting all wet. "I'm having hot flashes, and wish it were your tongue,", she said, and hung up the phone. Well, so much for this diary right now,
I best get some clothes on and quickly find that key, before she decides it's her fingers, rather than me. I'll tell you what happened when I get back. And, Diary, if I'm not back by Monday morn, make a note of that for me.
Monday Early Morning - No, damned fool ain't back. I suppose I'll hear it all later.
Monday Afternoon - Well guess what just dragged in. He looks like he'd been rolled in an alley by hoodlums. Pours himself a large glass of wine, two raw egg yolks in that, stirs, some ice, flops down on the couch, stares into space as he sips on his disgusting concoction. Seems she demanded more that he was prepared for. I'll let him sleep it off, then I'm sure I'll hear all the juicy details.
Monday Night - Well diary, thank for detailing my return. But I skipped a solid meal this morning, and needed my wine to unwind from the duties required of me. Remember, I told you once ? Abstainer, n. A weak person who yields to the temptation of denying himself a pleasure. Well, I did not deny myself, nor her, extreme pleasure. And as you also may have forgotten, extreme pleasure requires extreme physical endurance, which she has very methodically drained me of. OK, so now, we got that straight. Now let me tell you what happened.
I did manage to find the key under the flower pot, after stumbling over her sleeping dog, who was nice enough only to growl, and not bite me. No lights on anywhere in the house, I guessed she wanted me to nicely sneak in and surprise her. But, I had even better plans. I very quietly and carefully removed my clothes in the kitchen, left them there and proceeded on to the living room naked, very quiet, and cautious, since I did want to trip over anything, making a noise or hurting myself. I was almost to the hallway leading to the bedroom, where I could see a slight bit of light coming from under the door. When all of a sudden, all the lights came on, and there she was, standing behind me, with all our friends, and began singing Happy Birthday to me. Here I stand, completely naked, in front of everyone,
expected to be surprised. SURPRISED? ? ? I definitely was surprised, and everyone else shocked. Well, they were nice enough to let me go back to the kitchen and get my clothes on. So after that fiasco, we partied, with a few of them still rolling on the floor laughing. That lasted till early Monday morning, when everyone finally left. As soon as all were gone, she stripped her clothes off, flopped back on the couch, and,
"Now we can enjoy what was interrupted by all our friends." she said
Slowly spreading her legs wider and wider, one hand behind her head, the other gently slid into her pussy then back to encircling her clit, soft, subtle moans, moisture glistening from between her soft pink puffy pussy lips. Well let me tell you, I was drooling, ripping off my clothes, with hardon throbbing, and then . .
got my feet tangled taking of my shorts, fell backwards over the coffee table, and crushed her favorite cactus with my ass. She's still laying there, moaning, giggling, moaning, giggling, hardon is history, cactus thorns in the cheeks of my ass, trying to find a way to get them out, "this is not funny" Well I must admit, she stopped laughing long enough to get tweezers and dig the spikes out of my ass. After that fiasco, she wasted no time in making sure she had something worthy of her starved pussy to entertain herself on. With fingers, lips, tongue and plenty of moans, groans and deep hot breathing she had my cock so hard, I could have driven rivets with it.
She quickly rolled me over on my back an mounted, impaled herself on my stiff member. That's when the real fun began. My back to that thin carpet, her pounding weight rocking, grinding, thrusting herself up and down on my shaft. She must have missed several cactus thorns in my ass.
Trying to push my ass up from the pain of the thorns going deeper into the cheeks of my ass, she, I'm sure convinced it was for her pleasure, hammered herself down even harder. Tears of pain running down my cheeks. Her contorted face, with pleasure smiling at me, thanking me for my added effort. How could I tell her it was for the pain in the cheeks of my ass. She helped herself to several violent orgasms before she finally rolled herself off me, and I was able to get off my thorny ass.
While getting ready to leave, she showered me with kisses of thank you for the pleasure.
Well, the reason I'm late getting back is, I had to stop off at Doc's office to get the rest of the nasty spines removed from my sore ass.
What I wonder now, is am I going to have to get cactus thorns in my ass again to match the pleasure she got from that.
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