How does it start, a moment like this?

The men, tanned and sixties with their slim swim shorts and muscled torsoes. Their hungry grabs at her, making their stake in the afternoon’s events very clear. 

Her desire, breathing hot and wet through black cotton.

I know how this ends - the sweat and cum and panting red-facedness of it all.

But really, how does a moment like this start?

She would start touching herself, quiet and private under her piano bench.

It had been surprising to him at first, and she a bit shy.

Now she was confident. Her instructor knew what it meant when the music stopped. 

Slowly these pauses had become his favourite part of the compositions.

I love how he handles her body so objectively, like a butcher.

I suspect that, for this little ribeye, things are going to end well.

(Source: weenerd)

I was done for even before you finally bent me over and fucked me, wet and soapy in your shower.

Your hand circling my throat, your fingers in my mouth, Warm water running down my face. A sudden trill of your kisses on my shoulder blades like a goddamn flute section.

Is it wrong that I want to go back to that moment and live forever in the storm of your bathroom?

(Source: spliffy-)

I believe in eco-friendly cars as much as the next pornographer… but I want you to fuck me on your knees in the back of a vintage Bentley, not crouched like dogs in some goddamn Prius.

Every sixth Sunday, the Secret Society of Enormous Cocks meets in suburban basements and shares insider secrets relevant only to them - how to hide such giantess in bathing suits; the frustration of trying to fuck girls without hurting them.

The rule is no pictures, but the twins enjoy posing, the skewered symmetry of their long shafts and tight muscled torsos giving the photos an artistic feel.

Shiny straight hair, a hard nipple on a small tit.
A tight little ass that takes dicks too big to fit.

Ankle socks, thick hard cocks, white couch fuck-ings…
These are a few of my favourite things.

(Source: m-n-mj)

How I spent most of this weekend.

Sorry I haven’t been blogging much folks, but…

I mean…

I’m leaving to meet a close friend for brunch.

That said, it’s Saturday morning and I’m horny as hell.

Am I horny enough to crawl under tables like a dog, reaching frantically into the crotches of strange men, my sudden, panting breath making their cocks jump?

Well, I guess all I can say to that is you never know.