#16
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
nice story
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#17
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
*Deleted: duplicate post*
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#18
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
Haha, I am neither.
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#19
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
She rolled onto her back, her body heaving as she tried to catch her breath, and was soon studying his erection. His erect penis throbbed inches from her face. Not having seen a man's cock from an upside-down perspective, she regarded it with wonderment as though it was alien to her. Seeing the chance for a shot, he took a step forward and fired away. Just as he was pressing the shutter release a fourth time, he saw her shift.
Then he froze as he felt her hot breaths on the tightly-drawn skin of his balls. Still staring, she blew on them lightly, sending a shiver down his spine. He stared at her, his camera forgotten. "Don't stop," she said. With her right hand, she began to trace a line down her body. Beginning from her chin, her fingers skimmed along her throat, across her breasts where they detoured briefly and danced lightly on a nipple before they coursed across her flat stomach and came to rest on her crotch, her fingers slowly stroking the triangle of flesh between her legs. He watched with rapt attention. She glanced up and met his gaze. Then, beyond his view, she slipped a finger into herself. Soon he could hear every squelch her finger was making. Through her pursed lips she let out a small moan. With her free hand, she stroked her left nipple in slow, lazy circles. He snapped out of his momentary stupor and fired away. As her hand quickened, he, too, circled her with increasing furor, immortalizing that moment shot after shot. * * * * * * |
#20
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
nice story
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#21
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
Echoes of her sharp cries still rang in his ears. And he could smell her sex, a scent that was a musky, thick mix of her sweat and arousal. She had rolled over to her side into a crumpled heap, her back to him, her body heaving with her ragged breathing. There was a small damp patch on the sheets inches away from her buttocks; her hand remained clamped between her thighs.
Hovering above her just seconds ago, he fell onto his haunches. A bead of sweat broke free of his chin and it was only then that he realized he was sweating hard. His penis was squashed between his thighs, its purple, bulbous head gleaming slick, the skin of its throbbing shaft stretched thin, revealing thick veins. The sensation was too much for him to bear; he had to get off. His camera bounced once on the bed, abandoned. He was about to climb out of bed when she turned over onto her back. She rolled her head lifelessly, such that she faced him. Her left cheek sank into the folds of the sheets. "Wait," she managed weakly. Caught between the unbearable surge of arousal welling up within him and that strange instruction of hers, he froze, unsure what he should do. With much effort, she lifted herself up in bed, swung around and parted her legs in his full view. "I want to watch. But only after we finish this round." He let out a nervous laugh, realizing that the more time he spent with her, the less he had her figured out. Gingerly, he climbed into bed and picked up his camera. Through the viewfinder, he saw her reach out to him. She dragged her nails lightly on his thigh. The touch was searing; it was so exquisite—so unexpected—he nearly dropped the camera. "Don't do that," he rasped urgently. "I may not be able to stop myself." "From doing what?" she asked, her tone dripping with nonchalance. "From fucking you," he hissed. Through her disheveled locks of hair, she leveled a stare at him. Her eyes glinted with the late afternoon sun stealing into the room. She continued moving her hand, her fingertips brushing broad strokes on his skin. His penis twitched, an agitated and cornered animal, and she stayed clear of it. * * * * * * |
#22
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
Very well written.. Can imagine the scenes personally... Nice !!!
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#23
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
Well written story an up for you , do cont on this wonderful thread
__________________
马尔斯( Mars),黑暗中的战神 9 shot of 151 given out
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#24
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Thanks, MarsIswar.
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#25
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
camping... TS is very descriptive...
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#26
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
England powerful camping in!
__________________
PM me for exchange pics / contacts OR Email me at admiraltoh@outlook.com How I saw my mom had sex: https://sbf.rocks/showthread.php?t=49860 |
#27
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
very intense description in this story bro, keep going! Hot read, cheers ..................
__________________
" Life is what happens when you're too busy making other plans." - John Lennon " All that is needed for Evil to succeed is, that decent human beings do NOTHING. " - Edmund Burke |
#28
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
But for only a while.
He could barely concentrate as she, now on all fours, continued to touch him. The clicking from his camera was erratic, the framing of each shot even more so. Through the viewfinder, he saw, in close details, the arch on the small of her back and the tensed muscles of her ass, which only made him yearn more for what laid beyond. Her fingers made their way slowly up his thigh until they came dangerously close to his balls. He took his face off the viewfinder just as she glanced up at him and flashed that familiar mischievous smile, her face mere inches away from his lap. Deliberately, her hand stopped. "You are such a tease," he growled. She glared at him in defiance. A moment passed. Suddenly, she wrapped her fingers around the shaft of his cock. The chill of her grip sent a shiver down his spine and made him moan. A sliver of pre-cum oozed from the bulbous, purple head of his cock as she tugged his foreskin, and began to quiver as she lightly pumped her hand. Her lips parted into an smile as she regarded his visible arousal. With her other hand, she pressed a finger on the tip of his cock and spread his juices all over the head. He buckled his hips to the sensation. Then she gazed at him, and, giggling, tasted her finger before she dipped it between her legs. The sight was driving him crazy. He reached out and cupped her breasts, his touch exquisitely gentle. It was one thing to be scrutinizing, like a voyeur, her body for the past two hours, and another altogether to be actually feeling it. He would only realize, moments later, that he had been holding his breath as he did so. She got on her haunches. Arching her back, she offered her breasts to him. As he wrapped his lips around a nipple, she cupped his balls and pumped his cock harder. Returning the favor, he slid a finger down her crack and into her pussy. The only sounds in the room were those of their jagged breathing, the obscenely loud smacking of his lips as he suckled her breasts, and their wetness as they masturbated each other. His breathing quickened; she recognized the signs and drew her body closer, nestling his cock against her stomach. Seconds later, the stillness of the air in the room was pierced by his roars as his hard cock began to spit, again and again, thick hot gobs of cum, splattering her hands and stomach. "Take a shot," she uttered as she began to come herself. "Take a shot, take a shot…" * * * * * * |
#30
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Re: The Photographer and His Muse
Well written i also caught into the action so stimulate please continue with more action
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