delectabledeviants: It was the abandoned house...

4th April 2011

It was the abandoned house they used to play in as kids.

He’d moved away. They saw one another in a club. Such connection, pushing beyond yesterday’s innocence, into that which spoke like sexual ghosts within breathing, released candy kick into bloodstreams.

She had lead him back to the house, barely a word said. Then spun him round, whispered for him to count to ten. then come and find her.

He searched every room, but knew where she would be. It was part of the game back then.

He didn’t expect her to have unbuttoned her blouse, slid off her skinny jeans, her knickers and to be rubbing her clit furiously, eyes closed.

She knew he was in the room. She could hear his breathing. Smell his cologne.

But part of the level of danger was the eyes keeping closed, this place where they once played so innocently. And here she was, as woman, being so fucking mischeivious.

The more she thought about the moment, of his reaction within the ink, the empty walls, the echoes, the more she started to fingerfuck.

In the darkness she heart him unzip, press his weight against the opposite wall. was he watching her. Or were his eyes closed too, squeezing and pushing himself at each deathly nuance as she did.

As her moans turned louder, she heard his boots move across the room towards her. Closer. Closer. Closer still.

She felt his manhood at her lips. Almost asking, then as she sighed over it, it pushed past her teeth and her tongue embraced it.

But he was at that moment. He wanted the moment to be hers.

She knew it.

And as she fingerfucked deeper, faster..it was mere moments before he was awash with salt and sin in her mouth. Bucking against her, crying into the empty room and expanding the echoes with lust.

She gulped him down eagerly, broken only be the spark command of her clit as he came hard against her fingers, eating eagerly as his still throbbing, still spunking member.