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Fuck Love


It is hard to believe it has been a year– every morning, afternoon and evening still poses the same sadness and loss– and none of us are okay- we remain in a collective sadness, but– we remain. Joy slips in and we have to take when we can- knowing the lows can only follow.

The numbness has faded– the aimlessness of our remaining existence has also faded with the tasks of living. The loneliness of this loss never really goes away– and it may never.

What I have learned in the year is that grieving doesn't stop and neither does anything else– the sunshine or fog, the bills still need to be paid, the neighbor still parks like an asshole, we still have to lift our heads off the pillow every morning, we still want love and we still want to fuck.

For the most part I have been letting this side of me lay dormant– not wanting to spend the emotional energy on such matters. Things have changed, I feel like being in love, I feel like fucking– I feel like fucking someone I give a fuck about– I want them to fuck me in return with the same feeling. The kind fuck love that doesn't have to be heavy– just simple- despite life's going-ons. The kind of fuck love where implications dissolve when I say love you– because chances are I am saying it when you balls deep inside of me, the kind of fuck love that leaves me with a serious case of post orgasmic giggles.

I'm holding auditions.

Testing driving a few new models– inspecting backseats for roominess, flirting, talking to handsome salt and pepper strangers, taking leaps with far away soul mates, sampling the seasonal fruits Northern Cali has to offer– and it finally feels good and not completely emotionally labored.

I even had a man over to the witness relocation bungalow– rare indeed. We spent Sunday kissing on my couch and then rolling all over the bedroom. Some moments spent in tangled wrestle of limbs, fingers, toys, cock and his mouth filling me until my pussy let go in much need gush of orgasm and cum.

I got to spend lots of time worshiping his cock too– and you know what a cock slut I can be. I know I say it all the time– but when I have your cock in my mouth, it makes me so wet, juicy and want to fuck even more, it makes my body bounce in cock need– and that slippery salty taste of precum just sends me over the edge. I became very soft, those exterior mental postures we must all wear melted away– I became the cock saint, the-  sweet, I love your cock, cock sucker– wanting only to please, wanting to make you hard over and over again– just spending the afternoon with you in my mouth.

Things always shift in the bedroom, after all that time licking and kissing on you– I wanted cum.
"Would you like to watch me?"
From the nightstand, I pull out my njoy wand and hand to you– I guess I want you to help and watch.
"It's cold go slow."
Like the tip of a cock, I love when the tip of the wand begins to spread me open, my walls tightening in anticipation and my breath sinking. Between my legs you become slow and tender as you slide the toy in while I squeeze around it– a sigh and blurred words escapes your lips that disappear when your head drops and your tongue begins to lap at my creamy wet toy filled pussy.

This is what's been missing–  another person's tongue– it feels so good.

Shift, fuck, wrestling bodies, fingers fuck me.

I can feel the hardness of your cock– rubbing against my slit. Reaching my hand to guide you to my tiny clit, circling it with the tip of that sweet curved, now solid cock. The toy still filling me– maybe your fingers too, everything between us wet, sliding and tangled. The clinching of the of orgasm takes me, and another burst of wetness ensues– followed by spasms of laughter and brain explosion.
"Did you cum?" I ask.
You tell me no, which means all this wetness between us is me. Such a wet slut.
There are more cums and more orgasms, more tangling, more cock worship and then some more cock worship.

It was nice, sweet and almost an innocent way to spend a Sunday afternoon. It was a moment of joy– which I take when they come, because in life the lows soon follow– but we remain– so take the joys, love the joys and cum all over them.

Auditions ongoing.

Republished with permission from Library Vixen. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Brazzers.


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