Closet Frisbee getting fingered by fuck finger on the beach at night

I stood on the beach wearing only my favourite swimming trunks, the ones that showed me off to best advantage when feeling my most virile. They were loose enough to allow my considerable length to emerge peek-a-boo style from whichever leg it favoured on any particular day, presumably to see my mind’s observances as they occurred should they seem fanciful enough to travel there; yet when wet they clung remarkably tightly to wherever they touched on my hips and buttocks zone, and my colossal cock would stand out like a meatloaf on steroids within its moist prison, pushing, prodding, threatening to burst forth to greet the day should it find a weak spot or be thrust by excess movement against the material. I felt good in these trunks; the rest of me felt the energy exuded when it was adorned this way, and my muscles seemed to expand and contract with every dirty thought I had that made my cock happy. Life was good and I knew it.

Yet I was alone. This was a beach, right? Where were the ladies, at the very least?

I scanned the horizon, slowly. Meaning to miss nothing if indeed I had struck out, I took in the beauty of my surroundings; clean sand, crystal clear water, sun in abundance, tropical palms giving shade for the peak of the day, and I knew of all the other buildings and natural wonders I could visit and use for my benefit at any time. I took it all in, familiarised myself with it again and again, seeing things I noted with relish for all the fun I planned to have while here, and those things which might threaten the image and force me to deal severely with life again, like the ships on the ocean; ensuring via vigil that they never turned my way, and those pesky seagulls; challenging me to try eating food around them unmolested. It seemed to take an eternity but I was in no hurry; it had to be perfect and I meant to miss nothing in pursuing it. In the end I was satisfied, satiated .

In the calm of the moment, I wished for my special lady to be here with me.

Something, a blip in my peripheral vision, caused me to focus on a spot along the beach hill line to one side. I was convinced; my wish was about to be granted me, even though physically I couldn’t be expected to know it was indeed her there. I knew instinctively what she was doing; she was walking, no sashaying towards me, hips swaying seductively just for my imagination until my eyes could agree, waving though; she was seductive yes, yet completely friendly and approachable at all times, which she knew I would prefer she not do. After all she was mine wasn’t she? Promised to me through the will of two people committing their love and devotion and standing by it all this time via nothing more than the words spoken that fateful day they had met so recently, and sealing it with the best sex I had ever had. I had mentioned this to her, the waving and sociability she showed to all, the sensual look that was permanently tattooed via nature to her awesome body, that i wanted all to myself; but she merely shrugged it off, and I had resigned myself quickly to that, vowing to find a way in the long run to mould that trait from her psyche.

While thinking all this, time had seemed to slow and I knew this was an illusion; all to soon in glimpse after glimpse I could make out the form of the work of erotica getting closer as if in time shifts. What would it have been? Two hundred metres; one hundred and eighty; and fifty; time along with it, five minutes gone, ten, an absolutely agonising eternity which was mercifully over all too soon. But you’ll have to wait too, just as I did, simply because this happened to me, and everyone else I may inform of this encounter will get it and their rocks off only when I allow it, just as she made me do back then.

Soon I could see that absolutely nothing was missing from this scene. She was most definitely dressed in that black bra that she had shown me in stripping for me the first time; her hips, bold, round and outstanding in their voluptuousness, clad only in a string bikini bottom, threatening to either disappear into the petite crevice that shielded the best, wettest tunnel of love that had completely engulfed my manhood that first time, until I through her ministering had been blessed through some form of pure magic with a length that even frightened me, seeming that it would explode into pieces instead of with passion, but instead calming somehow as it bottomed out in there, and her own passion had been truly voiced in stereo it seemed, loud, long and for me alone despite this.

The smaller details came into focus too as she neared; those piercing eyes were focused on only me despite the terrain, and she managed that with grace and poise through her walking rhythm, and those lips that had never truly smiled in my presence. They were perfectly pursed on her face and prepared in her favourite shade of blue; no red for this lady as her skin was almost milky white, and the blue seemed to offset that to my sense of ideals automatically. As my eyes moved over her torso, I could make out the buds on her chest poking provocatively through the material covering them, just as my Mr Happy would again soon through its own confines, and her cleavage look as though it went for a longer distance on her upper body than the legs supporting it and them, yet sitting so prominently at the very top of the host and emerging so far from it that they seemed to be running towards me and would arrive about half an hour before she herself did. The slender midriff I ignored; i was going to focus primarily on breasts and vagina, after the head that drove them of course, was I not? The hip zone, that wondrous bulbous butt, thigh and pussy combo, swayed almost unbearably back and forth as they instructed the legs below on how to convey it all as if on hovercraft like lifts towards me, so lightly as to be impossible not to leave any trace of a footprint behind her, yet somehow achieving this with no effort at all.

And then it was over; she stopped, and I found her right in front of me.

She did not have to look up at me; she stared levelly directly into my eyes, no expressive feature on her face evidenced through those painted lips, just drinking in my face which must have been twitching madly as it fought the visible battle of the rest of me to stay in control for the world to see had it followed me there. Her hair rustled softly despite the lack of wind; maybe my heaving breath? Even her blinking seemed ordered, noticeably slowed in the moment. I wanted to look at the body again but knew I couldn’t decide on which part to focus so would look like a bobbing head if I did, so I forced myself to match gaze for gaze into her eyes, finding myself feeling as if I should move back a step to prevent drowning in them. In the end this mattered not; it seemed to only occur to me later even though fully aware of it then and there, as she finally moved from the stationary pose she had effected as she stopped once with me to take each of my hands in the opposite of her own, she took a step back then, as if she knew what was about to happen.

Then she spoke. “Hello, Michael.”

That voice; timbre, volume, pitch, song like in its delivery... it was all too much for me and my cock finally ruined my favourite trunks permanently, bursting out fully erect to seemingly impossible length and girth, head red and throbbing, veins distinct on the entire shaft, balls dangling as they always did, ready to slap against the framework surrounding the holes into which its massive partner in sex crime, as all my partners told me afterwards it had felt, would fearlessly enter. It breached the distance between us effortlessly, stopped still at the exact point of entry to the wonders laying within, and the balls took a little longer to calm, swinging lightly in the same breeze that unsettled her hair until they succumbed to reality by stilling.

Milady’s eyes moved ever so slightly at long last, giving this happenstance’s result the briefest of looks before returning to my eyes to judge me properly prepared. She remained silent from that point for what seemed ages in this gorgeous moment, and somehow I knew that when she spoke next it would be some of the very last words she need speak for the next... what? I don’t know how long it was, didn’t know then of what it would be, just that we would only speak to roar through the rest of this encounter at the tops of our lungs. I almost missed the sign; her lips parting to give their exposed points one 360% long luscious lick, and then they were spoken.

“Are you ready for me?”

[download here>>]

Closet Frisbee getting fingered by fuck finger on the beach at night

Title: Closet Frisbee getting fingered by fuck finger on the beach at night

Added on: August 27th, 2016

Category: Voyeur

Tags: , , , ,



Lords of BlackjackNiche Porn SitesBest Free Porn Tube SitesDavo Slots