Deeper Kenna & Manuel Lose Themselves in Passionate Sex

Kenna muses on the way she

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I like you best mixed with the salt of my own body, running down colorlessly into pools

that gather in the crevices of yours.

I like the taste between us, muddled, pressed, damp to the touch, rolling.

It's the break I want.

The wave and the swell and the crash that lathers when it hits, rushes my face.

Prikaži manje Prikaži više

I want to be washed over with the depth of you when you rise and the scratched surfaces

you'll expose in the trough.

The rough edges that carve me out and the softened pieces that stick in.

I want to be what's under you and what's left when you pull back.

Caused.

I want to be affected by you.

I like the way you absolve, standing over me, examine your wake.

The spoonfuls that you scoop back in, fingers first.

Smearing, exacting.

Dripping it thickly down my throat.

You say, "Look at me when you fuck me."

I wipe it clean.

I like the weather in your eyes, dark and downcast, cool and gusting, tidal, as you

run out of your own lines and into mine.

You remain unmistakable.

I like the backwash in the slack that looms between us as I move to relist, if possible,

fragmented selves.

And you wet me back down, bind it together, cast it off.

Your cock cupped softly in my hands for birth.

I like what I can't have and you sweep it just ahead and leave me treading.

...

Deeper. Kenna & Manuel lose themselves in passionate sex