As the rain lashes against the window on this blustery night, he surveys the woman before him, his eyes caressing the pouting flesh of the creature who has tortured him with her desires, who has inspired a hunger and frustration foreign to him until now.
While he aches to reach out and take hold, his body shivering, his thick uncut meat throbbing as the pungent scent of their mutual arousal fills the room, he restrains himself. On this night, there will be no giving in to her. Not easily or swiftly, at any rate. For on this winter’s night, he longs to hear the confession of her own desperation, yearns for the sweet, whispered appeals for his weight, his skin, his kiss, his cock, his come.
Once she surrenders herself with the very words that drew him in, once the fevered need rises up and breaks over her supple form, once he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt her tight little cunt is flowing the nectar most craved, he will scale the metal barrier and join with her; arms snaking, hands exploring, mouth devouring, possessing, partaking and worshiping with his entire being.
(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)