TMI? Who Cares, It’s My Blog

Remember, if you see my posts you understand I am a writer of erotica. I think about this stuff all the time. Anyway, thought I’d share them.

I’m into my next book concerning a futa hotwife, and of course, that means serious researching (watching porn) . In watching one, in particular, I recall just how fucking much I enjoy the feel of a hard cock in my hands and mouth.

I can think of no better sensation — well, actually I can but for the sake of argument — than one hand slowly stroking that rock hard dick while the head lays in my mouth, lips sealed tightly around the ridge of the crown. I like to lightly run my fingers along the shaft and feel the swollen veins encircling around it. So tactile.

My other hand enjoys rolling around his nutsack, using my long nails to tickle the wrinkled flesh. Men. Men are absolutely helpless at that time (or, at least, the ones I’ve had). Put their dick in your mouth and they’ll pretty much just moan and groan and promise you the stars and the moon.

But the best part is when he’s getting ready to come. The feel of his shaft trembling, the glans swelling larger, the delicious — really, the best — precum starting to pour out. Umm, tasty, guys.

The man will shove those hips right into me with the intention of getting his meat into my throat, but I don’t let that happen. I keep the head just inside my mouth and stroke that shaft faster. I can feel it swell against my palm… feel every spasm as he starts pumping that nectar into my mouth.

I think what I like is that twin sensation… the spasming in my hand and the outpouring of jism. Oh sure, the flopping around he does, the sounds of grunting, the total loss of muscular control as he becomes a marionette whose strings have been cut, that’s exciting. As a good Catholic girl, I appreciate the many prayers to the deity (oh god oh god oh god) But I’m enjoying the throbbing member and the splashing hot cum the most.

And when he’s done… he’s calmed… I like to sit back and look him in the eyes as I let the mouthful I’ve just accumulated drool from my mouth. I don’t try to catch it. I just watch him while it pours over my lips, down my chin and… if he’s especially productive, onto my chest. The looks he gives me when I rub it into my tits amuse me. In reality, once that stuff starts to get cool I want to just wash it off. But it’s worth the effort just to hear him groan again.Haha.

If he’s lucky… if he’s done well… I’ll lay back and let him watch me finish myself. Otherwise, I’ll excuse myself to take a shower and do myself there.

Just an afternoon reflection as I take a break from the writing. By writing more haha!

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