Friendsex
Both were naked, socks off.
She positioned herself on the large and comfortable pillow-chair. He positioned his body in front of hers, on his knees. She spread her legs. He hooked the backs of her knees in the crooks of his arms and lifted her legs, spreading them wider. She guided him in, and then he began slow, deliberate full-length strokes.
They looked directly into each others eyes. “Jesus…that feels good!” He said.
“You bastard!” She said.
He laughed.
“Why a bastard?” He said
“Because every time I’m on my way to visit you, I promise myself we won’t start fucking as soon as I’m through the door, and…ooooh sooo good… here we are!”
“Mmmm…don’t you like it anymore?”
“You know I do. But it makes me feel kinda like a whore…just here for sex.”
“We both know you’re not a whore,” he said.
She laughed.
“I kinda like feeling like one, though,” she said. “Do it a little faster. Damn, you feel huge today!”
“Huge?”
“Yeah, you feel even bigger than you normally do. I love your cock…uh, I’m already getting close.”
He chuckled.
“Mmm…I’m getting close too. I’ve missed you. What about it do you love?”
“Its size, its shape…it fills me just right…um, I’m real close! You close? Come when I do, please.”
“I like it best when you come first,” he said.
She giggled.
“Whores aren’t supposed to come…but screw me like I am one. Now! Come with me, now!”
He did. Then they kissed and cuddled for awhile, his weight resting on her.
Later dressed, they went for a long walk in the cold, snowy day. They talked, they laughed---unconditional friends.
She positioned herself on the large and comfortable pillow-chair. He positioned his body in front of hers, on his knees. She spread her legs. He hooked the backs of her knees in the crooks of his arms and lifted her legs, spreading them wider. She guided him in, and then he began slow, deliberate full-length strokes.
They looked directly into each others eyes. “Jesus…that feels good!” He said.
“You bastard!” She said.
He laughed.
“Why a bastard?” He said
“Because every time I’m on my way to visit you, I promise myself we won’t start fucking as soon as I’m through the door, and…ooooh sooo good… here we are!”
“Mmmm…don’t you like it anymore?”
“You know I do. But it makes me feel kinda like a whore…just here for sex.”
“We both know you’re not a whore,” he said.
She laughed.
“I kinda like feeling like one, though,” she said. “Do it a little faster. Damn, you feel huge today!”
“Huge?”
“Yeah, you feel even bigger than you normally do. I love your cock…uh, I’m already getting close.”
He chuckled.
“Mmm…I’m getting close too. I’ve missed you. What about it do you love?”
“Its size, its shape…it fills me just right…um, I’m real close! You close? Come when I do, please.”
“I like it best when you come first,” he said.
She giggled.
“Whores aren’t supposed to come…but screw me like I am one. Now! Come with me, now!”
He did. Then they kissed and cuddled for awhile, his weight resting on her.
Later dressed, they went for a long walk in the cold, snowy day. They talked, they laughed---unconditional friends.
posted by Erik Ivan James | 8:21 AM
11 Comments:
Um, Erik, you certainly have expertise.
I'm talking about writing, you lunk.
A very well-done scene and a refreshingly different perspective on the usual kind.
I do try to stay hard...um...er...at my writing. To become expert is my goal. Long road to travel yet.
Thank you, Bernita, Dear Gal.
So, this is your spin on Fuckbuddies.
Here's a writer to writer question - do you let your wife read this?
Welcome back from your travels, Sandra. Missed you.
I honestly don't know if she reads my blog or not. She has never mentioned anything concerning it. We do, however, and fairly often, discuss what "topic" I may be writing about at any given time.
Oh you writers.
You and Norman Mailer.
Henry Miller?
I know that in the old book-banning days, a juror would surely have gotten an erection.
I know I did.
Then, Ivan, it's likely good you are not on trial and standing before a jury. They might see "it" as your confession.
There is a correspondent to Antonia Zerbisias' blog in the Toronto Star, who signs himself
"Biggus Dickus."
Certainly not me.
Lovely.
Thanks Ivan...
well..now..whew...yeah...mmmhmmm...and amen!
that sure is some hot stuff you be writing there! i would love to know your inspiration.
Meander, hello! Welcome.
My inspiration?
Hmmm...let's try...life's fine pleasures and few regrets.
best regards, nice info »
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