In the mood for...

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I'm in the mood for...
a sweet, little girl, completely out of her depth
for the scent of her breath, that tinge of nerves, desperation
For her mouth, dry from the confusing adrenelin
for the catch in the back of her throat when she tries to speak
the wobble in her knees as she tries to stand, perched on heels far too thin
for the look in her eyes of 'please', 'oh god', 'run', 'stay', 'please'
flickering

I'm in the mood to hold her there, in that moment, that singular
moment
 
Mmmm, something like this, please...

gets on her hands and knees...just in case anyone passing has a blindfold and some ideas

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I am in the mood for a soul shattering orgasm...if i find a suitable picture I shall add it later mean while ...close your eyes and simply imagine. Mmmmmm:rose:

er...your own not mine *blushes*
 
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Written by Vail_Indigo

Tuesday's Girl(s)
The young one works in my building. She must be an intern, far too young and fresh to have made it through college yet. Every Tuesday she shows up in something that makes my toes curl with need. Today, it’s a Chinese silk dress down to just below the knees, slit almost up to her hip, and black flip-flops, her perfectly straight blonde hair dancing in the breeze. I want her. I want to taste that flesh, hear nails along her skin, feel her teeth on my thigh. But I can't. Not today. Today is Tuesday. Every Tuesday she meets a woman, maybe 10 years older. Darker. A bit more edge. Curves that match the slenderness of the younger. Today she wears a silk blouse, ivory, and a short black skirt with black stockings, the tops hinted at with each step, and black pumps. They meet across the street, a park I can see into part of, a half- wall. They stare at each other, standing close seeming to talk, but their lips move too slowly (my feet on my window sill...a pair of cheap binoculars to my eyes...my breath slow and even, my door locked). It’s obvious from the way the Younger moves that the Older has her hand between her thighs...barely moving fingers...letting her know exactly where she stands, who is in control. Lips slowly moving. Blonde's tummy begins to undulate. This is where they suddenly spin out of sight, behind a full wall. I groan. But I know. Younger can barely stand, leaning up against the wall, Older doing wondrous things to sweet, fresh cunt, forcing her higher and higher, Strong hand on shoulder (neck?) pinning her there. Low, throaty voice: "Love how I fuck your cunt, babygirl? My sweet bitch? Do you like how your Queen does this?" Barely audible...almost a whimper:"Yes, my...Queen..fuck me...please...cunt needs you...babygirl needs you" "Yes, fucktoy. Yes, pretty slut. Who's your Momma, Who owns your cunt, who owns this babygirl?" She almost cries out, bites hard into her hand..."You!" And she's cumming, held up by the strength of the Older. Finally done. Finally breathing. But it’s far from over. I see her foot, black pump, come to rest on the half-wall; her skirt must be around her waist. The little one is there, inches from her cunt. "Now, babygirl, you want to make me happy, don't you? Don't you want to be my good little whore?" the Younger chokes back a word, and before she can make another sound, strong fingers in her mane force her into the delicious wet heat. She moans, smothered, drowning. She groans, hungry, drunk. Nails dig into flesh. Fist pounds on back. Cum flows again. I see the Older leave, licking her fingers. It’s a full half hour before the Younger appears. I shudder as I let my fingers touch something sensitive ever so slightly. I want her. To be her Momma-Queen. But I can't. It's Tuesday. And today I'm the slut.


I want to be Tuesday's girl so bad. :heart:

Thank you Vail. :kiss: Never stop writing from the heart..
 
In the mood for - starting with a kiss-brushing back her hair as the kiss deepens-her hand going to the back of my neck pulling me closer and not just physically closer.
 
I'm in the mood.....

to be Vail's "sweet little girl, completely out of her depth". I do so love being sweet and innocent.
 
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