Page 11 of Aug
He didn’t stay long. His feet were planted, and his girth was staring me in the face after a good licking from my hood to my asshole.
“Hmm,” he grunted, “Get ‘em wet.”
His demand was met with my need for supply. August’s hand went on the back of my head. His dick inched closer to my mouth. Happily, I took it in.
“Shit,” he whispered, complementing my warmth.
Chocolate.
He reminded me of rich chocolate during the week of Mother Nature’s visit. Savoring his scent and subtle secretion, I rested my eyelids against each other.
Oh God, he tastes so good.
I extended my neck to acquire as much of him as possible. He was glorious. His skin smelled like sandalwood and myrrh and oranges and plums. I inhaled him as I pulled back and exhaled as I pushed forward.
“Mmmm.”
His fingers caressed my tresses, stripping me of pure pleasure. I wanted him back already. Back in my mouth. Back down my throat.
“Aug–”
His lips smashed into me, but I was far too occupied with the feeling of his dick pressed against my center to care about the blood he’d extracted.
“Ti.”
August’s voice was met with my grief. I mourned the death of my inner walls, my sanity, and my solitude. I wouldn’t have either once he was done with me. Or, at least I didn’t feel as though I would.
He was sent to destroy me.
Long and lovingly, he stroked me. His lips were still pressed against mine. His tongue roamed my mouth as if it had no home.
“Fuck.”
I will be his home.
“Uhhhh–” I moaned, tightening my grip on August. Internally and externally. Simultaneously. Deliriously.
“Augussss.”
His right hand caressed my left breast.
“Shit, Ti,” he whispered against my mouth. “Fuck.”
Back.
Forth.
Back.
Forth.
August plunged into me, mercilessly. Hungrily. Skillfully. Passionately.
He lifted his body and stared down at mine. His face contorted so beautifully.
“This shit so good.” He grimaced, awakening something within me.
My secretion was plentiful. It coated his tool and my entire toolbox, ending mid-way down my thighs.
