I'm going to start this off with my smut, then I'll take some from some of my other favorite smut. Enjoy.
My Original Writing:
He had seen him once and only once while on his way to visit his friend. Long story short, he ended up missing the meet up with his pal and drove back home and daydreamed about the stranger. The boy had jet black, leather shoes that zipped from the center of his foot all the way up to the top of the boot, which sat around two inches above the top of his ankle bone. He crossed his feet when he stood up and leaned against something. It was the most feminine thing below his knees. The curve of his right heel rested right on top of his left ankle, fitting almost like a puzzle piece. The way his toe lightly taps the ground because of the way his shoes restricted him was a tiny detail that Phil loved.
Phil's original glance at him started at the feet and worked its way up. His calves. They were clearly defined through what must have been the skinniest pair of jeans Phil had ever seen. But what surprised him even more about his legs, were his thighs. Goddamn they feminine, even more than the way he crossed his feet. The outward roundedness, the visible weight, the way that they curved in and out, both on his right and his left. Phil had spent hours just dribbling over what he could do to those thighs; he could cover them in purple marks, lightly trace shapes and designs over them with his delicate fingers, or he could spend all day with him, just leaving his hand on his inner thigh lovingly.
Translated: English - Hawaiian - Albanian - Bosnian - Afrikaans - Finnish - German - English
He once encouraged him and only visited once with his friend. As long as the story was over, he had a part-time job in his department and returned home and the visitors tasted. Black and shoes are removed from the foot stand over the body and five feet up. You can walk with your feet and believe in something. It is less complicated. The helmet on his left staircase is hardly a secret. Eat the eggs, because Phil does not need his shoe size.
His first Phil, who painted on his feet, made the road. His calves. Philips reflects it. But the one who put his feet on his feet was his foot. Suspicious women, more than he actually went. Extremely worn stairs are the way they are pulled out and left, left and left. Phil worked in a few hours for guinea pigs; He could cover her with clothes, whisper and try it with his finger, or maybe stay with him and keep his hand on Aloha's axis.
My Original Writing:
He motioned for the boy to flip over. As he did so, Phil lined himself up. Without warning he eased himself into the younger. Dan let out a surprised squeak that slowly turned into a pleasure filled moan the more Phil pushed into him. Phil loved the slow feeling of his walls closing up around him, every millimeter carrying him closer and closer to the edge. Dan loved the feeling of being filled up just as much as Phil loved to be inside.
From just the first time he bottomed out, Phil hit the spot.
"Fuck. There. F-fuck. More P-phil please," Dan cried in between moans of pleasure. He almost came from the very get-go but he knew he had to last longer. It got harder and harder the more Phil thrusted over and over to hold back his orgasm.
Translated: English - Hmong - Czech - Icelandic - Korean - Swahili - Latin - English
A straight face. And if, as bound to do what Phil. I will not thou declare it, complained that he was younger. Then, gently, into an empty Philipp appetite. Phil has always gone astray, doth the conclusion of the whole around the edge of the wall is elevated with the millimeter. According to the will of He who hath pleased them of it balanced by Phil to his own ability.
When he had opened for the first time handed over to Phil.
"Damn, I suck." P-Phil is great. Dan, that they cried out with a loud voice, almost an accident. But more important than the mere complexes, Phil.
My Original Writing:
As Phil's eyes glared up the boy more, he imagined what it would be like to slowly creep his hands up his black, edgy band shirt and pry it off with pure lust after unzipping his thousand dollar leather jacket with an unnecessary quantity of zippers. He wanted to feel every crevice his torso had to offer him. He wanted to pour his soul into exploring the boy. He craved to run his skilled hands over the boy's godly features, sucking love bites all the way from his v-line to his neck. His neck. Oh God, his neck. Phil could pretty much come just thinking about all the things he could do to his neck. Fuck. He could turn the boy's whole damn neck purple if he wanted to. He wanted to take every tiny bit of excess skin and turn the slightly tanned tone into a deep, blood-vessel broken mark. He imagined the boy craning his neck just for Phil so he can suck and bite every single square inch on his neck. Just imagining the boy wriggle under is dominating touch almost drives him to insanity.
Translated: English - Serbian - Uzbek - Yiddish - Turkish - Polish - Welsh - English
The elephant gently slowed the black shirt with the hands and weighed the unnecessary amount of espraznuo as the chips looked carefully at the child, and then imagined it, as a clean assault on a thousand dollar jacket. He wants to see all the wire he gives him. The caller wanted to push the child. Imagine learning your child's ability on the divine property of the absorption in the back of love to the end of his line. Neck. O my God, on your throat. Anything an elephant can do on his throat, just in mind. Damn. If so, it will make the dark door purple. She wanted more on every skin, and there were soft, deep bones appearing in the broken blood vessels. If you're thinking about Sisjo and your throat, scripting scrolls every inch of your child's throat. Think of the almost crazy child who appears under the influence of the referee.
My Original Writing:
After his chin and his neck is his mouth. That glorious mouth that Phil could not even fathom how good he was with it. He came up with a checklist in his mind on all the things that one can do with their mouth, and Phil knew that the boy would be able to do every single one of them perfectly. He wanted to know what his lips felt like on his own, what they felt like on his body. He wanted his tongue to rub against the boy's and start a fucking war between their faces.
Other than his mouth all over his body, he wondered about the moaning. He wondered how loud the boy was in bed, or in general. Were his moans light and breathy or loud and heavy? Were they more feminine or were they pure groans? Was he more demanding or did he have a tendency to beg? What did he sound like in general? Did he normally sound as intimidating as Phil's dominant side or did he sound as helpless and innocent as Winnie the Pooh? What name kinks did he have? What does he love to call is superior in bed? Phil could not stop questioning.
Translate: English - Persian - Greek - Thai - Dutch - Zulu - Lithuanian - Chinese (Traditional) - Maori - Xhosa - Azerbaijani - English
Mouth and mouth in the mouth. Not surprisingly, the sign is good. He wrote everything he had in mind and Philadelphia knew that children could do the best. He was amazed at how his mouth and appearance were. You want to bend the baby's tongue and fight in front of you.
Without your body, you think you're crying. You want to know if you're a baby or a baby. Are Adults, Mature Adults and Mature? Many women get tired? Want to know one or more of them? Is it a bad idea for consumers or vagina? Is there a student? I want to call the bed. Cats can not stop suspects.
