Sex du Juor: Sex Tales

Sex du Juor: Sex Tales Sex du Juor: Sex Tales

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

A young woman, drop-dead and girlish, let's known to us some honeyed, sugary, and icky sex tales of hers; read on...for your own bawdy and steamy bliss and delectation...

Summary

A young woman, drop-dead and girlish, let's known to us some honeyed, sugary, and icky sex tales of hers; read on...for your own bawdy and steamy bliss and delectation...

Content

Submitted: February 26, 2015

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Content

Submitted: February 26, 2015

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Cooper Graham. He is straightened and risen before me, wholly and every inch starkers and buck naked and without a slight stitch on. He has slumped and lobbed his clothes down to the floor, after I have worked out the same that is, and as he eyes and gazes direct at me, I feel the hots and salaciousness steel and gee up in my flesh and veins, enticing me to inspect in-depth his unclothed body, to leer and gawp and letch after his shapely and well-formed and curvaceous self. I am on the tenderhooks; I am in suspense; I am winded and driven and steered out of breath.

 

The candles are glowing and glistening lustrously and lambently. I am in love with their blaze and brilliance and sparkle; that velvety, radiant and stunning flashiness of theirs. As well, I am in intensely and deeply in love with the way that Cooper is making love to me. Steadily; by degrees; and taking his time and leisure. He lounges and sprawls there on top of me, necking and snogging me with his gentle, warm ,and touchy-feely lips while caressing and patting and nuzzling me at the same time. I love him. So very much indeed.

 

I pinch and gnaw and nibble my lips with my unsoiled and squeaky-clean teeth as Cooper bangs and slaps and belts and clouts in and out of me. He is champion and first-class and top-notch at this. Yeah. My sphere is but a field and domain of enjoyment and bliss and lots more of contentment and satisfaction. While he whips and breaks and hits his penis into and outside of my most dear cunt all the more harder and faster and quicker, I reach with my wonky and tottering hands for his enormous, bulky, baby soft butts behind and grip and grasp and clasp as solid and jelled as I can to myself. Yeah. I am absolutely and verily enjoying and taking pleasure in this.

 

To be honest with you—on the other hand—at times I do wish that I am dead. Every inch and consummately dead. Dead like those two boys, Cooper and Vaughn, whose deaths I am responsible for. I didn’t mean to do it. I just did it unwillingly and forcedly. That is what always happens when I break the rules. That is how things always end up whenever I become a little bit stupid and stubborn and yielding and careless. Awful and dire.

 

Cooper died on Valentine’s Day two years ago. He died before my very own eyes and those of everyone a round, helpless and remediless. His death was so galling and frightful.

 

 

 

Vaughn died in his car, having driven me home from the party that we had just attended. He gave up the ghost right in his seat, with I myself keeping a hand on his once-warm-but-now-suddenly-cold-cheek, and it was after we had kissed vehemently and intensely.

 

In all my life, it is these two boys whom I have ever dated and fell in love with. There are no other. And there will be other, it seems. Cooper and Vaughn. I still love them more than anything else. More than my own breath and existence itself. Yeah…more than all that indeed.

 

I sigh to myself as I think about all this, seated down on my enormous bed, my feet tucked and crossed over each other, my hands wielding a sharply knife which I would soon use to root out my life. It has been enough already. Twenty years of living hell so far. A twicefold decades of torture and torment and endless actual nightmares and agony and anguish. I will put an end to everything now—without delay.

 

Cooper’s loving and lenient and sweet-tempered smile. I still haul and carry and lug it with me wherever I set off. There is ever that vision and conceptualization of him, stripped buck naked, but still awesome charming and handsome, and there he is before my face, smirking and twinkling and grinning from ear to ear at me continually and incessantly. Even when he canoodles and smooches my bare breasts, slapping and amusing himself with them, he never renounces and casts off that amorous and warm-hearted smile of his. No, he doesn’t ever dare do that.

 

 

 

I still remember the day I came across him. I am a self-conscious and shrinking eighteen year old—back then. Guiltless and inoffensive and lawful. I run into him while wandering about Blanco West- High School’s extensive corridors, lost and gone out of track. Without foreseeing it, I hit into this tall and blond and overly enormous boy. He is well-built with the perfect muscles and a lovely male visage that any female would effortlessly fall for. Everything about his appearance is just plain damn…sterling!

 

“I’m sorry,” I grumble an immediate apology, shame-faced and angry with myself.

 

“There is no need to; I am equally to blame as well; I wasn’t minding where I was going.”

 

Cooper has a lovely and sugary-like voice. One that you would like to be all ears to all day long; one that you would fall in love with just on the phone without ever bothering to find out the appearance of the individual it belonged to.

 

After helping me gather up my scattered books, I pace away, leaving him standing there before the lockers on his own, and when I spin back to look at him he is still gazing and marveling at me. Little do I know that he is the guy whom I will share the microscope with in the laboratory during the Biology session. My God, he looks so graceful, spell- binding even! Even though his attire is modest and simple—blue jeans and a yellow shirt and a white coat—with that spiked up hair of his taken into account, he looks…totally divine!

 

That is the moment I fell in love with him. Not on our first encounter. Though later on he does admit it to me that he fell in love with me the first time he unexpectedly laid eyes on me.

 

Of course. The candles and darkened tapers still glitter and twinkle and sparkle fiercely and more vividly. I am prostrated and recumbent down there on the massive, stupendous bed, embraced and cuddled in Cooper’s virile and Herculean arms. He gasps and wheezes down at me, settled and anchored on top of me, where he is flexing and bowing up and down toward me, capsizing and throwing off his priceless, twee seed—or semen—into my vagina. I groan and sob. I bewail and lament soundlessly. Yes. I would put up my soul for sale just for me to relish in this. Just for me to find satisfaction in this. Merry me!

 

Cooper and I are wrapped up and sewn up and ended through. At least for now we are neither making love nor delighting in any warrigal, trackless, and nuts agog sex. No, we are not. In lieu, we are both unclothed and uncovered on his bed, veiled and shroud with nothing but sterilized and decontaminated sheets and coverlets. And we are gazing and ogling each other noiselessly and silently. I believe that Cooper is just about to smirk beautifully and pleasantly like he is habitually fond of doing.

 


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