Mastrubation desire stories
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Moving her hands to her neck, Susan gentle massages the tension built up from a day of stress, and contemplates the other tension she’s been feeling. Dropping her towel over the back of her armchair, Susan looks down at her soft, warm body, contemplating the desire that is firmly rooted within her pelvis. Pushing the waiting fingers past the entrance, and towards the coveted G-spot, while maintaining the steady rise of beautiful pleasure stemming from her clit, Susan feels the heightening of her mountain. Tracing her right hand away from her clit, and across her soft warm body, Susan’s nails raise goosebumps’s, as the nerves settle from the explosions and contractions that have kept rippling through.
In a vain attempt to focus, she turns back to her work yet she can feel her eyes being drawn back to the flashing cursor in a mere matter of seconds, her own longing for more consuming her thoughts as she eagerly awaits a response. Her eyes re-read the latest messages, feeling herself drawn into the fantasy that forms upon her screen and plays out in her mind. She has work to make up but blissfully content she types a last message back telling him how she'll feel him in her saturated panties for the rest of the day. That and a promise of wickedly delicious payback when he is next stuck in the office, a playful smile crossing her lips before she signs off with a kiss.
Half an hour in, I was sure I'd be able to get at least half the girls in the group to have sex with me, but not Jenny. I opened the door to see her lying spread out on the bed, completely naked with the guy thrusting his quite small cock into her pussy. I rejoined the girls, and after a few minutes of dancing and chatting, I whispered to Christy, "Hey, what are the chances of me grabbing Jenny?" I knew a tongue felt very very different, but it was nice to just rub it into my pussy and imagine Jenny, eating me out. I pulled the vibrator out of my pussy, and once again, licked my juices off it, imagining that I was kissing Jenny, my juices still in her mouth.
I touch myself and think about words written solely to arouse and to excite, to get you wet or to make me hard. In the dark, the words I conjure up are not words of anything else besides a hard cock, a wet pussy, yielding lips, grasping and stroking hands, penetrating fingers, a tongue, an ass grasped by reaching hands, smooth skin and hair, sweat and saliva and semen and your fluids all mixed, taste and smell, tightness and tautness, legs spread, and guttural sounds instead of poetry.
That morning as she sat in Professor Isaiah Benton's senior seminar on legal ethics, she found herself imagining what his genitals looked like. Her fantasy gave way as Isaiah looked towards her expectantly, knowing that she certainly disagreed with what a classmate had just said. Isaiah looked up as the last two other students approached to say good bye. Looking up at his eyes again, "Yes, I was imagining that it would feel incredible to have your hard cock inside of me, to make love to you." She turned one last time looking at him in the doorway, pressing her right palm into the crotch of her pants, staring at him, seeing his cock still straining at his clothing.
When I think of you or look at you, my desire approaches, light, between my head and my sex. My desire wants to meet yours, to make sure of it, to be delighted at the effect which it makes you. My pleasure it is this desire, more than such or such precise sensation of skin, it is the desire(envy) to invest(surround) you, that I so like making increase(grow). I want to wait to fill better of this strength which you stimulate of a sigh, a collusive look, a confident smile. And there, suddenly motionlessly, in you mixes who cannot know any more who is, who, I leave behind my pleasure to spread this time, from the scene only, acutely in my whole body, the recollections of this mad wish.
Cancer left me so desired for love an a touch. With this metal plate in my head I feel as if I am frankenstien. Cause I listen and I care. One women to hear my problems for onces an I listen to hers. Too massage her back an let her stress through the day die. Too let a women feel a real mans hand deep inside her. All I ever ask is too love and be there for a women. Look past the scars on my head and chest. Look past the metal plate in my left face. Look at women on the internet dreaming one will be in my arms.Till then I am left all alone.