Joy

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She asks him what brings him joy.

His reply…

…thinking of you as I touch myself.

He paints the picture.

The ripping of her panties, his impatience, his need.    The way she opens her legs for him, letting the left leg bend ever so slightly leaving just enough room for him to penetrate her.  She always allows him to have his way, rough and deep.  He likes the way she purrs his name…as he edges deeper inside of  her the purr becomes a moan.  He loves the way she talks dirty to him, the way she asks him if he like this pussy with a wickedness he didn’t realize she possessed until that moment.

Her biting him turns him on, the mix of pleasure and sudden pain.  He tells her he likes how she isn’t surprised when he flips her over and enters her from the back, she welcomes it and meets each thrust making her ass jiggle like chocolate pudding.  He strokes himself faster as he recalls how she curses when he runs his tongue down the crack of her ass…stopping to explore…he can feel her shudder.  He says as he strokes himself he can still see her face as he grabs her throat with each thrust, he loves how she closes her eyes…trusting him.   Her legs on his shoulders her begging him to fuck her.  Her needing him, even as he is inside of her.  He reaches his release as he remembers her smile as he places sweet kisses on each bruise he has left on her body…kissing her pussy trying to soothe her because he is rougher than he realized.  He says inside her pussy is where he finds his joy and inside her heart is where he finds his life.

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