1000 Years without Climaxing

 

I was prone on the bed and he lay on top of me. I opened my luscious thighs, that were already palpitating with desire, and received him, from behind. Like a man who is in love with a virgin, and aware of it, he moved inside me gently and deeply anchored there.

 

 

The soft of his palm cuddled me, stroked and fondled my swollen breasts. Like the body when it realizes it’s pointless and useless to fight death, I felt my self-will and restraint give way, the body abandon the notion of bothering about the surrounding and drew up my legs and spread them like wings to feel him proffer my vulva completely to his glans and penis shaft.

 

 

Just when it was getting heated, I lay on my stomach and he followed suit on top of me, legs interlaced. I was in the mood for trying something new, a sex style and position I had seen in one of Kama Sutra’s books. Following what the book had said, I turned and he did so with our backs to each other.

 

 

I knew he would feel some pain, but I had a way around that. I maintained my balance with one arm facing him supported on his body, titillated at the entrance to my weeping pussy by the glans of his thick shaft. Naturally this was only foreplay.

 

 

He got it real deep into my cunt by turning gently to one side. Then my pulsating pudendum was now ready to receive him in totality.

 

 

Whatever he did, a slight movement caressed places I never even knew existed. The intensity of the pleasure was debilitating, and gyrating in synch we realized that it just skyrocketed. When we stopped the sirens went off and drove us to about climax.

 

 

It was like a game we seemed to know by heart, his penis anchored deep into me like a vise while my pussy shuddered and welled at the same time.

 

 

Were it not for his gullibility to release inside me I could do it for a 1000 years like the Indian gods of love without climaxing.