t weeping with laughter
"Sarah my ass"? Huh.
I thought it was a very jumbled way of saying that her ass was his. Possibly I'm confused from all the talk of ass-owning in Tim's thread lately.
Not just sex... sexy sex.
Isn't that a Homer Simpson quote?
grab the different strings of her bikini with his mouth
I'm just imagining this like bobbing for apples... it does sounds like there are a lot of strings. And perhaps my favorite ever imagery:
brought an instantaneous hard on to the stoic Monarch’s groin.
Somehow it's not the man getting a hard-on, it's his groin. I always end up picturing the penis having a miniature penis of its very own, and then I end up with pornographic fractal imagery... it's not pretty.
Well, someone's got her groove back. NOT work-safe:
The woman’s body lay exposed only to his spellbinding green gaze, she was frozen with the knowledge that every nerve ending in her out of control body was pulsating with need for the sculpture before her. His abs made of granite rippled under a sheer clothing of anticipatory transudation a part of the statutory need to soon provide climatic release to the giver as well as the beneficiary; this designation to be determined at a later time.
---
Whispered promises from two people in love while in the throngs of passionate bliss, soft kisses and softer caresses accompanied by an unending pledge of amour and devotion, confessions of yearning each other and admissions of jealousy to the point of endangerment reverberated in the still of the chamber.
---
He was drawing circles that occupied her nipples, etching mammoth that floated on a bowing line from one hip bone to the next, dipping south in a flair of penmanship deep into the heated bush of the imaginary jungle surrounding the cave. Her breath was shallow, almost pleadingly begging for the pleasure to end, for Michael to stop his unyielding attack on her senses, but then plaintively imploring Michael to never stop. His relentless sketching continued painting on his virtual canvas his primitive figures, making them dance with the quiver of her tummy, the flexing of her clitoris, the crying of her cave.
The animal handler waved his magic whip and the figures fell one behind the other, telling a prehistoric story of wild monkey sex and the sublime creation of mankind. She was exhausted, lost in an unending wave of thrills that took her high with every lick, higher with every stroke, highest with every plunge of tongue or digit. Then to her unending gratitude he’d let her slide carelessly down the slope of ceaseless rhapsody after a careful nip or a tiny bite from the man’ skilful stellar mouth.
See, there's a whole cave painting motif going on...never mind.
---
“Oh god Michael, more.” Nikita semi- supplicated (semi because she was too far-gone to make much sense). “No… No… stop, stoppppp…. Don’t you dare to stop…Mykkkeeellll.”
Michael smiled again as he licked incessantly now the clit that was rock hard, placing a magical finger to the stone he asked, “What is it, stop, go, tell me my love what is it that you want?” He was pushing hard on the pebble, making it go round and round and in and out, pinching, prodding, a wayward finger dipping repeatedly into the cave, followed rapidly by one or two more of the digit’s complaisant brothers.
“I don’t know.” She cried, “I don’t know, this is just… no… there, yes, yes… that, oh no… stop” And as he moved she yelled, “Don’t you dare stop.”
“In that case I am in charge.” Michael told her raising both brows and moving one quick finger in and out of the entrance to her particular cave, making her juices begin to percolate.
He yanked with his teeth on a perky breast and then the other, positioning himself over her spread legs and picking them up to place them on his strong shoulders. He arranged a pillow under her elevated ass and he entered her sanctum hard, pulling out just as hard; in, out until he established the right rhythm. She was coming so often and so hard she didn’t know when a climax ended and the next one began, she cried and cried and came and came. He pumped and tweaked and drove the point home.
"Percolate"
"throngs of passion" are my favorites..we have 300+ here. Could we make a throng of passion?
He yanked with his teeth on a perky breast and then the other,
Ow. I mean, a little nibbling can be ok, but this sounds like a puppy eviscerating a stuffed toy.
her out of control body was pulsating with need for the sculpture before her
At first I thought she was talking about a dildo, then I remembered just who it was I was reading.
Ye stars and little fishes--this woman actually has fans? Who like her stuff? For real?
That's why, when in doubt, I always go with kind of non-specific act descriptions...as I get more confident I may add more, but I wouldn't want to tear anyone's nipples.
anticipatory transudation a part of the statutory need to soon provide climatic release to the giver as well as the beneficiary; this designation to be determined at a later time.
This sounds like a legal brief or a contract. Sexy.
And she wants "climactic" anyway, unless Nikita wants it to rain on her head during that special moment. But, you have to admire her juevos, not, you know, actual juevos.