here goes nothing...

[supple_curves]

Not bad.

me:
https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=228319

 

[MrGreen]

nice thread, supp

and I always enjoy making new friends, too

 

[Lucid Delusions]

Sweeeet!

Damn honey, you certainly know how to get a girls attention! Mmmm, seeing you in absolute bliss makes me want more..pics....you! *sigh*


Lucid

 

[gina3]

Re: been a while...

How about a sorta artsy shot to see if any of my old friends are still around?

It's been a while, Mr. Green!

It's wonderful to see you again

 

[MrGreen]

Woohoo!

Good to see a couple of my old friends! How YOU two doin'?

 

[MrGreen]

a close shave

Just realized that this is a page without a picture and we can't have that. (And I'm actually showing face. )

 

[Lucid Delusions]

Mmmm, MrGreen, you look absolutely delicious!




, Lucid

 

[NaughtySecret]

Re: a close shave

mmmmmmmmm, Mr Green, I agree with Lucid. You look deliscious. I could just eat you up, yum


Naughty

 

[MrGreen]

Re: Re: a close shave

Sounds good to me. Gotta love luring virgins to Lit.

mmmmmmmmm, Mr Green, I agree with Lucid. You look deliscious. I could just eat you up, yum


Naughty

 

[Angelofsex]

Re: a close shave

Just realized that this is a page without a picture and we can't have that. (And I'm actually showing face. )

Mmmmmm, very nice......keep it up.

 

[MrGreen]

Re: Re: a close shave

Mmmmmm, very nice......keep it up.

Thanks. I'll see what I can do when I get home from work.
(Nice AV, btw. Someplace I can see more of you?)

 

[Angelofsex]

Re: Re: Re: a close shave

Thanks. I'll see what I can do when I get home from work.
(Nice AV, btw. Someplace I can see more of you?)

Yes please do..........and no hon, but wish there was a place you could see one.

 

[MrGreen]

Re: Re: Re: Re: a close shave

Yes please do..........and no hon, but wish there was a place you could see one.

Ah, well. I'll just have to live in my imagination.

Hmm. Since I don't have any pictures available here at work, how about some of my writing? Here's a piece I wrote a couple months ago:

"Pearls"

Evening gown. Tuxedo. I don't care about details and neither do you, because from the moment I picked you up, I was hungry, and I could see that you were, too. Event? What event? Who cares? Yes, we went to whatever it was, and made our excuses early. One accessory of yours comes into the story--the long strand of pearls around your neck.

Shall we begin with the moment we returned home? Yes. The door was barely shut before we were devouring one another. Let us begin at that moment in the present tense. Yes.

Our tongues are slashing across one another and our breathing is already ragged. Your hands are gripping my ass, pulling my groin against yours. My hands are squeezing your tits. I could put it more subtly, but neither of us wants that. We want to fuck. It's as simple as that.

I break the kiss so that I may nibble, bite, and lick down your neck to your collarbone to your cleavage. Already you are moaning when the pearls find their way into my mouth. And inspiration strikes.

Reaching behind you, I unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor. Your breasts are bare to me--the beauty of their size is that age hasn't made them fall. They stand perfectly, looking the same at thirty-five as they must have at seventeen.

You start to unbutton my shirt as I engulf your right breast, but I stay your hand.

"Me first," I say. My hand roams down to your cunt, which is completely soaking through your hose. You move your hands down your sides, hook your thumbs in the waistband.

"No," I say. "Leave them on."

I kiss down your stomach, fluttering briefly in your navel. "Stop teasing," you say, and I comply, stealth-kissing down and down until my lips hover over the nylon. You emanate intense heat and I can feel that you shaved today.

I start running my tongue over your clit through the material. Your moans are serious now. "God, yes," you say, and my fingers move between your thighs, pushing your nylons into you with two and then three fingers. "Fuck me," you say, and I tell you soon.

Still circling your clit with my tongue, I bring my other hand to meet the first. With both hands, I finger you for mere seconds before surprising you by tearing the fabric open. I slather your labia with my saliva before standing up and opening my fly.

Your hands run over my already throbbing cock. I cradle my hands under your ass and lift you from the floor. I carry you to a wall and pin you against it.

You slide so easily down onto my cock and our mouths meet again, teeth clashing, tongues flashing, moans eaten.

I fuck you hard and fast, pistoning my hips as rapidly as I can manage. Our mouths closed over one another barely contain the furious sounds we make. We've been waiting for this since the hunger first arose and we both come quickly.

We collapse to the floor, still entwined. And we're still hungry. My cock softens some, but not completely.

I withdraw it with some regret, but then turn to the feast we've made. Finally, I pull off what remains of your nylons and bury my face in you. My cum, thinned by your wetness, is running over your thighs. I lick up every drop before going to the source.

God, I'm still so hungry. I devour every trace of my semen from inside you. You're starting to moan again and this is where the plan comes in.

I stop my attentions long enough to kiss you, to share with you the taste that we have made. And while we kiss, I unclasp the strand of pearls and secret it in my palm.

Your clit is so tender now. I return to it with a gentler touch of the tongue, light flickers that make you shudder. My hand starts slowly feeding the strand of pearls into you, orb by precious orb. You make a noise somewhere between curiosity and pleasure.

You continue to tremble for long moments as I lightly love your clitoris. A flush starts to rise on your chest again, though, and your thighs clamp around my head more tightly. My ministrations increase as I feel you getting closer again.

Rapid, more forceful sweeps across your clit... fingers moving a bit more rapidly against the bunched strand of pearls contained inside you... your second orgasm is moving closer and I bear down, sucking your clit completely inside my mouth as I draw, one by one, each pearl back out of you.

I take the pearls up from your entry, up over my tongue, under my top lip, back down under my tongue, and over my bottom lip. Pearls are traveling up and then, after changing direction, travel back down over your pussy lips again. But their journey isn't over.

I continue to pull the pearls up through the crack of your ass and my God, you're coming again for me, screaming now, your entire body thrashing as the long, long strand of pearls comes out of you, through my mouth over your clit, back over your pussy, and through the crack of your ass.

By some stroke of amazing luck, you finish coming just as the strand runs out. I slowly back away from your clit, from your pussy, from your body, giving you room to breathe, room to recover.

While your eyelids flutter and your breathing slowly returns to normal, I drop the pearls to the floor, lie back and stare at you. God, you're so amazingly beautiful. How did I ever deserve you? Just watching you, loving you, my cock is growing much harder again and I start to stroke myself.

Your eyes eventually open and you smile and laugh. "God!" you yell in what is almost a child-like voice of pure joy. "My turn!"

You crawl across to me and begin undress me, piece by piece as I continue to stroke. Your breasts brush against my chest now or the wet of your cunt slicks my upper thigh then and I gasp with each unexpected touch.

Finally, I am naked and you kiss me once before gathering the strand of pearls from the floor. Slowly, you wrap them around and around my shaft, until my cock is coated in glistening gems.

You start to stroke around the pearls and they move, they roll, they massage my shaft. You lower your mouth over my head, start butterfly kissing it, sucking it, willing pearls from it.

I could go into great detail about each and every stroke. Or actually, I couldn't. My brain melts into a puddle of ooze. You give me the most incredible, most decadent hand and blow job I've ever had. And to insure that I never withdraw from you, you slide first one and then another finger into my ass and massage my prostate.

You always swallow, but this time you don't. When the explosion first hits, you pull back and let the semen shoot biefly up before cascading back down over the necklace. I'm surprised how much cum there is for the second orgasm in a short period, but the jewelry gets well-coated.

When you're sure you've squeezed the last drop out of me, you carefully unwind the necklace from my cock and run the strand slowdly between your lips, licking it all clean.

"God, I love you," I say.

"Me, too, you," you reply.

We help each other up from the floor, leaving our clothing where it fell. Nuzzling, we make our way to the bedroom and crawl under the covers. Giggling, you offer me the strand of pearls. Smiling, I encircle our waists with it and re-fasten the clasp.

We both smile, knowing that with the strand holding us together, we'll awake in the morning facing each other and ready to begin anew.

 

[Angelofsex]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: a close shave

Ah, well. I'll just have to live in my imagination.

Hmm. Since I don't have any pictures available here at work, how about some of my writing? Here's a piece I wrote a couple months ago:

"Pearls"

Evening gown. Tuxedo. I don't care about details and neither do you, because from the moment I picked you up, I was hungry, and I could see that you were, too. Event? What event? Who cares? Yes, we went to whatever it was, and made our excuses early. One accessory of yours comes into the story--the long strand of pearls around your neck.

Shall we begin with the moment we returned home? Yes. The door was barely shut before we were devouring one another. Let us begin at that moment in the present tense. Yes.

Our tongues are slashing across one another and our breathing is already ragged. Your hands are gripping my ass, pulling my groin against yours. My hands are squeezing your tits. I could put it more subtly, but neither of us wants that. We want to fuck. It's as simple as that.

I break the kiss so that I may nibble, bite, and lick down your neck to your collarbone to your cleavage. Already you are moaning when the pearls find their way into my mouth. And inspiration strikes.

Reaching behind you, I unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor. Your breasts are bare to me--the beauty of their size is that age hasn't made them fall. They stand perfectly, looking the same at thirty-five as they must have at seventeen.

You start to unbutton my shirt as I engulf your right breast, but I stay your hand.

"Me first," I say. My hand roams down to your cunt, which is completely soaking through your hose. You move your hands down your sides, hook your thumbs in the waistband.

"No," I say. "Leave them on."

I kiss down your stomach, fluttering briefly in your navel. "Stop teasing," you say, and I comply, stealth-kissing down and down until my lips hover over the nylon. You emanate intense heat and I can feel that you shaved today.

I start running my tongue over your clit through the material. Your moans are serious now. "God, yes," you say, and my fingers move between your thighs, pushing your nylons into you with two and then three fingers. "Fuck me," you say, and I tell you soon.

Still circling your clit with my tongue, I bring my other hand to meet the first. With both hands, I finger you for mere seconds before surprising you by tearing the fabric open. I slather your labia with my saliva before standing up and opening my fly.

Your hands run over my already throbbing cock. I cradle my hands under your ass and lift you from the floor. I carry you to a wall and pin you against it.

You slide so easily down onto my cock and our mouths meet again, teeth clashing, tongues flashing, moans eaten.

I fuck you hard and fast, pistoning my hips as rapidly as I can manage. Our mouths closed over one another barely contain the furious sounds we make. We've been waiting for this since the hunger first arose and we both come quickly.

We collapse to the floor, still entwined. And we're still hungry. My cock softens some, but not completely.

I withdraw it with some regret, but then turn to the feast we've made. Finally, I pull off what remains of your nylons and bury my face in you. My cum, thinned by your wetness, is running over your thighs. I lick up every drop before going to the source.

God, I'm still so hungry. I devour every trace of my semen from inside you. You're starting to moan again and this is where the plan comes in.

I stop my attentions long enough to kiss you, to share with you the taste that we have made. And while we kiss, I unclasp the strand of pearls and secret it in my palm.

Your clit is so tender now. I return to it with a gentler touch of the tongue, light flickers that make you shudder. My hand starts slowly feeding the strand of pearls into you, orb by precious orb. You make a noise somewhere between curiosity and pleasure.

You continue to tremble for long moments as I lightly love your clitoris. A flush starts to rise on your chest again, though, and your thighs clamp around my head more tightly. My ministrations increase as I feel you getting closer again.

Rapid, more forceful sweeps across your clit... fingers moving a bit more rapidly against the bunched strand of pearls contained inside you... your second orgasm is moving closer and I bear down, sucking your clit completely inside my mouth as I draw, one by one, each pearl back out of you.

I take the pearls up from your entry, up over my tongue, under my top lip, back down under my tongue, and over my bottom lip. Pearls are traveling up and then, after changing direction, travel back down over your pussy lips again. But their journey isn't over.

I continue to pull the pearls up through the crack of your ass and my God, you're coming again for me, screaming now, your entire body thrashing as the long, long strand of pearls comes out of you, through my mouth over your clit, back over your pussy, and through the crack of your ass.

By some stroke of amazing luck, you finish coming just as the strand runs out. I slowly back away from your clit, from your pussy, from your body, giving you room to breathe, room to recover.

While your eyelids flutter and your breathing slowly returns to normal, I drop the pearls to the floor, lie back and stare at you. God, you're so amazingly beautiful. How did I ever deserve you? Just watching you, loving you, my cock is growing much harder again and I start to stroke myself.

Your eyes eventually open and you smile and laugh. "God!" you yell in what is almost a child-like voice of pure joy. "My turn!"

You crawl across to me and begin undress me, piece by piece as I continue to stroke. Your breasts brush against my chest now or the wet of your cunt slicks my upper thigh then and I gasp with each unexpected touch.

Finally, I am naked and you kiss me once before gathering the strand of pearls from the floor. Slowly, you wrap them around and around my shaft, until my cock is coated in glistening gems.

You start to stroke around the pearls and they move, they roll, they massage my shaft. You lower your mouth over my head, start butterfly kissing it, sucking it, willing pearls from it.

I could go into great detail about each and every stroke. Or actually, I couldn't. My brain melts into a puddle of ooze. You give me the most incredible, most decadent hand and blow job I've ever had. And to insure that I never withdraw from you, you slide first one and then another finger into my ass and massage my prostate.

You always swallow, but this time you don't. When the explosion first hits, you pull back and let the semen shoot biefly up before cascading back down over the necklace. I'm surprised how much cum there is for the second orgasm in a short period, but the jewelry gets well-coated.

When you're sure you've squeezed the last drop out of me, you carefully unwind the necklace from my cock and run the strand slowdly between your lips, licking it all clean.

"God, I love you," I say.

"Me, too, you," you reply.

We help each other up from the floor, leaving our clothing where it fell. Nuzzling, we make our way to the bedroom and crawl under the covers. Giggling, you offer me the strand of pearls. Smiling, I encircle our waists with it and re-fasten the clasp.

We both smile, knowing that with the strand holding us together, we'll awake in the morning facing each other and ready to begin anew.

WOW!!!!!!!!!!! Talk about hot and wet........OMG.....Now I will be dreaming.

 

[MrGreen]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: a close shave

WOW!!!!!!!!!!! Talk about hot and wet........OMG.....Now I will be dreaming.

Glad you liked it.
Most of my writing isn't quite so straight-ahead porn, is more "literary" (for lack of a better word) while still dealing with sex. This is an example of that (was just published in an e-zine).

"What If"

I was going to ask if you remember that day, but I know that you do. When we run into each other, no matter how casual the conversation, I can still see it looking out at me from behind your pupils. We’ve managed to reach a comfort level with one another since then—nobody watching us would ever know it’s there, and it’s rarely at the forefront of our minds—but it’s always there.

It’s seemingly an annual event that we see each other now. In the time since it was daily, we’ve each changed. You’ve more fully embraced the artist’s life. I’ve lived the suburban life. You’ve amassed acting credits, directing credits, grown. I’ve married, had kids, bought a house. And somewhere in there, some time not long after the daily contact became weekly, monthly, annual, we both stopped writing. Until recently.

You see my output and say it’s inspiring, but you don’t know the force that drives it. Or maybe you do. Maybe you know it all too well, have continued to let the force guide your life even as I thought I’d walked away from it. But that has little (or maybe everything, for perhaps without it, we would have succumbed) to do with that day.

Our rationale was that you needed to become comfortable with your body before showing it before an audience, that you needed to be bare yourself with someone safe. I think we both knew though that while I was your safest audience in terms of judgment, I was also perhaps the most dangerous person to accompany you.

I warned you when we arrived at the hot springs. “You know I’m going to be hard, right? Even if seeing you wouldn’t do it, the heat of the water will.” You laughed and nodded. And we stripped. And stared. My God.

“This is going to sound horrible, but… I never imagined your body would be that incredible.” I was afraid that it would sound awful, that I’d always thought her body fair at best, but the truth was that I’d imagined her many times and the reality for once in life surpassed the fantasy.

Slim, but with womanly hips. Inverted dewdrops with such dark coffee bean nipples. Bad posture that I’d always noticed, but never considered, thrust her pelvis forward. We didn’t touch, not then.

We took time to explore the three pools. The lowest pool was perhaps twelve feet long by eight feed wide and shallow. It was the coolest of the three, but exceptionally comfortable, allowing us to stretch out side by side and float as we took in air. An ice cold waterfall kept our bottled water chilled nearby. The second pool was a shallow basin, and uncomfortable perch that contained water of the ideal temperature. And the top pool was inside the cave. Deep and scalding, it echoed as we sang in it, but never for long.

Two women in their fifties arrived, clad in one-piece bathing suits. “Do you mind if we’re not wearing any?” we asked.

They laughed. “If we had bodies like yours, we wouldn’t be wearing suits, either.”

Mostly, they left us to ourselves. As they sat in the middle pool, we spoke softly in the bottom pool. I commented on your scar and you told me the story of a skiing accident at an early age. Extending down the inside of your leg from mid-thigh to just below your knee, it was an angry white cord. I traced it gently with my fingertips, and the first indication of what was to come skimmed across our skin.

The women left after a couple hours. Another young couple arrived, he immodest, she half-so, wearing only a bikini bottom. We hardly noticed them, and they didn’t stay long. Something about the springs that day must have signaled people that they belonged to us.

We lasted ten hours. Speaking occasionally, singing less, touching less still. A light misting rain fell almost constantly, keeping the skin above the water cooled.

As the sun started giving indications of departing, you presented yourself to me. It wasn’t overtly stated. Maybe you really were just watching the sun through the old growth trees. But throughout the day, your sex had only shown itself intermittently, as you walked away or bent over for water.

And then you leaned your elbows on the rim of the pool and looked out over the forest. You knelt with your legs spread for balance. And your vulva, red from the water’s heat, was there, mine, I sensed, if I wanted it.

Whether I thought that you were in my favorite position or said it didn’t really matter. You knew. I resisted moving to you with all that I had, but found myself lying on my stomach in the water, rocking slowly forward and back, my cock hard against the pool’s floor.

With too much conviction in your voice, you said, “We should go.”

“Yes,” I said, my voice broken and barely audible.

And we did. We toweled as dry as we could in the cold and misty autumn air and wistfully put back on our clothes.

And yet, all of that is still not what lurks behind our eyes. After we’d hiked the two and a half miles to the river, I took lead fording across the rocks. At one particularly slippery spot, I reached back to help you. As our hands joined, a force almost toppled us both. Your eyes widened as I’m sure did mine. The moment passed and I pulled you over to my rock, held you for just a moment longer than necessary.

The rest of the river crossing was uneventful, as was the hike to the car and the hour and a half drive home.

Before we went up to my apartment (your bladder, not surprisingly, was full), I stopped you. “Did you feel it?” I asked. I already doubted the event.

You looked ready to nod without thought, but caught yourself, wanting (I imagine) to be sure that you wouldn’t seem foolish.

“Electricity,” I said. “It jumped from your hand to mine. Or maybe mine to yours. I’m not sure.”

“Yes,” you said.

And I probably could have kissed you then, and you’d have let me. And I’d have let you do anything. But neither of us did.

Sometimes, I regretted never making love to you, not even ever kissing you. But it’s passed. Something in me knows that if we had given in, the arc never would have passed, or if it had, it would have diminished to nothing over time. And then I wouldn’t see its lingering spark occasionally regarding me with what if.

 

[Angelofsex]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: a close shave

Glad you liked it.
Most of my writing isn't quite so straight-ahead porn, is more "literary" (for lack of a better word) while still dealing with sex. This is an example of that (was just published in an e-zine).

"What If"

I was going to ask if you remember that day, but I know that you do. When we run into each other, no matter how casual the conversation, I can still see it looking out at me from behind your pupils. We’ve managed to reach a comfort level with one another since then—nobody watching us would ever know it’s there, and it’s rarely at the forefront of our minds—but it’s always there.

It’s seemingly an annual event that we see each other now. In the time since it was daily, we’ve each changed. You’ve more fully embraced the artist’s life. I’ve lived the suburban life. You’ve amassed acting credits, directing credits, grown. I’ve married, had kids, bought a house. And somewhere in there, some time not long after the daily contact became weekly, monthly, annual, we both stopped writing. Until recently.

You see my output and say it’s inspiring, but you don’t know the force that drives it. Or maybe you do. Maybe you know it all too well, have continued to let the force guide your life even as I thought I’d walked away from it. But that has little (or maybe everything, for perhaps without it, we would have succumbed) to do with that day.

Our rationale was that you needed to become comfortable with your body before showing it before an audience, that you needed to be bare yourself with someone safe. I think we both knew though that while I was your safest audience in terms of judgment, I was also perhaps the most dangerous person to accompany you.

I warned you when we arrived at the hot springs. “You know I’m going to be hard, right? Even if seeing you wouldn’t do it, the heat of the water will.” You laughed and nodded. And we stripped. And stared. My God.

“This is going to sound horrible, but… I never imagined your body would be that incredible.” I was afraid that it would sound awful, that I’d always thought her body fair at best, but the truth was that I’d imagined her many times and the reality for once in life surpassed the fantasy.

Slim, but with womanly hips. Inverted dewdrops with such dark coffee bean nipples. Bad posture that I’d always noticed, but never considered, thrust her pelvis forward. We didn’t touch, not then.

We took time to explore the three pools. The lowest pool was perhaps twelve feet long by eight feed wide and shallow. It was the coolest of the three, but exceptionally comfortable, allowing us to stretch out side by side and float as we took in air. An ice cold waterfall kept our bottled water chilled nearby. The second pool was a shallow basin, and uncomfortable perch that contained water of the ideal temperature. And the top pool was inside the cave. Deep and scalding, it echoed as we sang in it, but never for long.

Two women in their fifties arrived, clad in one-piece bathing suits. “Do you mind if we’re not wearing any?” we asked.

They laughed. “If we had bodies like yours, we wouldn’t be wearing suits, either.”

Mostly, they left us to ourselves. As they sat in the middle pool, we spoke softly in the bottom pool. I commented on your scar and you told me the story of a skiing accident at an early age. Extending down the inside of your leg from mid-thigh to just below your knee, it was an angry white cord. I traced it gently with my fingertips, and the first indication of what was to come skimmed across our skin.

The women left after a couple hours. Another young couple arrived, he immodest, she half-so, wearing only a bikini bottom. We hardly noticed them, and they didn’t stay long. Something about the springs that day must have signaled people that they belonged to us.

We lasted ten hours. Speaking occasionally, singing less, touching less still. A light misting rain fell almost constantly, keeping the skin above the water cooled.

As the sun started giving indications of departing, you presented yourself to me. It wasn’t overtly stated. Maybe you really were just watching the sun through the old growth trees. But throughout the day, your sex had only shown itself intermittently, as you walked away or bent over for water.

And then you leaned your elbows on the rim of the pool and looked out over the forest. You knelt with your legs spread for balance. And your vulva, red from the water’s heat, was there, mine, I sensed, if I wanted it.

Whether I thought that you were in my favorite position or said it didn’t really matter. You knew. I resisted moving to you with all that I had, but found myself lying on my stomach in the water, rocking slowly forward and back, my cock hard against the pool’s floor.

With too much conviction in your voice, you said, “We should go.”

“Yes,” I said, my voice broken and barely audible.

And we did. We toweled as dry as we could in the cold and misty autumn air and wistfully put back on our clothes.

And yet, all of that is still not what lurks behind our eyes. After we’d hiked the two and a half miles to the river, I took lead fording across the rocks. At one particularly slippery spot, I reached back to help you. As our hands joined, a force almost toppled us both. Your eyes widened as I’m sure did mine. The moment passed and I pulled you over to my rock, held you for just a moment longer than necessary.

The rest of the river crossing was uneventful, as was the hike to the car and the hour and a half drive home.

Before we went up to my apartment (your bladder, not surprisingly, was full), I stopped you. “Did you feel it?” I asked. I already doubted the event.

You looked ready to nod without thought, but caught yourself, wanting (I imagine) to be sure that you wouldn’t seem foolish.

“Electricity,” I said. “It jumped from your hand to mine. Or maybe mine to yours. I’m not sure.”

“Yes,” you said.

And I probably could have kissed you then, and you’d have let me. And I’d have let you do anything. But neither of us did.

Sometimes, I regretted never making love to you, not even ever kissing you. But it’s passed. Something in me knows that if we had given in, the arc never would have passed, or if it had, it would have diminished to nothing over time. And then I wouldn’t see its lingering spark occasionally regarding me with what if.

Besides good pics.......you write very well......keep them both up.

 

[MrGreen]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: a close shave

Besides good pics.......you write very well......keep them both up.

Thanks kindly. It was the writing that brought me to Lit in the first place. Finding this forum was the bonus.

 

[Angelofsex]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: a close shave

Thanks kindly. It was the writing that brought me to Lit in the first place. Finding this forum was the bonus.

Glad you did......keep cuming back

 

[MrGreen]

from the same session as above

I have a few more from that same night, including the finish. Should I keep posting 'em?

 

[Lucid Delusions]

Yes, keep posting pics, darlin'! I, for one, find you very tantalizing....especially after reading your stories! They, along with your pics, are making me so very hot, baby!

Please, post more, I *need* to see you!

 

[Angelofsex]

Re: from the same session as above

I have a few more from that same night, including the finish. Should I keep posting 'em?

Last post for me good night......I know I will be dreaming of something.......please keep them cuming.

 

[MrGreen]

okay, three more...

Just before coming...

 

[MrGreen]

two more

panting...

 

[MrGreen]

last one for now

just a little messy...

 

[NaughtySecret]

Re: Re: Re: a close shave

Sounds good to me. Gotta love luring virgins to Lit.

Thank you. You used the right bait mmmmm


Naughty