her patience and understanding. her virtue of love that fuses and discombobulates the togetherness of a forbidden force of nature and reality she yearns. two bodies, one soul ridden with dire consequences of togetherness; but still they seek to make...
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Her moans resounded within the spaciousness of the environment, coos like a sweet melody that melt like ice cream in a hot porcelain bowl that was her cold voice to the hot tension of the air that claps with the praise of their exhibitions. Like an applauding multitude of spectators, the the flesh of their roused existences contained by the cashmere air of home and enslaved to the ongoing war of lust and longing that brings a grave intensity to the way their bodies came together as one. Two vigorous souls twining around the long lost distance of the other, soon enmeshing with the same intensity and spirit that their bodies had, combining wholly for the purpose of love, lust, and emotional redemption. She exhales, her lips parted ever so perfectly to express melodically how sensational his tyranny of her body had seemed to become as the morning progressed. Her lips parted in a rapid pant of breaths and fatigue ruling of submitting body, she hadn't enough control of it beyond the curling of her toes into the hardwood floors beneath her stark soles, the cured glue of her rhinestone French tips scoring ruthless lines, scratching up the beauty of his nice hardwoods floors with knees that buckle into the pillowy essence of the mattress. Entrapped between the black and grey theme of his bed set and the capturing of her hands behind her back in the restrictive grasp of his hands, she relied heavily on the enmeshing of her body into the mattress for support and resilience against the hips that thrusted into the unceasing ripple of her backside. Fucking her like never before, giving his all in to each and every plunge into her body that have for a memorable experience of how much he'd truly loved and missed her.
The early morning of February fifth flutters with the intensity of their obsession, flooding the silence of the empty home with a passion and desire that infiltrates into the air of the outside world. The home busts at the seams with the true power of their togetherness, the grave significance of their becoming of one that allows for their love to be spoken through showcase and rather than the deceive of words and deeds. It was inescapable, and brings her eyes into the darkness of her sockets to cope with the aggression that came with the dire collisions of their fleshy interaction. She knew she looked crazy, had believed there was something about the way she looked and the weakness of her bearing that brought upon some sort of unattractive ness to her existence, but hadn't enough of a sense of mind and insecurity to dwell with the voice that vibrates her eardrum with a deep voice thick with lust and dominance, "This yo' dick mama, stop fucking running and take it." Evil were his words. Like poison against her flesh that soon burns beneath its essence, but still she obeys, taking his comforters into her mouth to bite down on, the sudden squeal that follows the hard smack of his palm to the red and welted flesh of her ass is muffled greatly by its pricey material.
Her back arches, body pressing firmer into the mattress to intensify the sultry curve of her back that brings a further arousal to the man who'd positioned her into the bent over stature she maintained to the best of her abilities as the barbarity of her strength seemed to knock it out of place with every stroke. Florence moans, freeing her mouth of the comforter to deliver a spine splitting, "f-fuck, t—te sientes tan bien dentro de mí." The spiciness of her mother tongue plagues the soul of the atmosphere, and sends a strong shiver down the spine of the gallant who sinks deeper into her canal that slathers him in a slimy coat of arousal with each and every forceful thrust of his dick between her sopping folds.
