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How Should This Story End?

posted 9/4/2010 1:25:02 AM |
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tagged: erotica, ending

It was just starting to cool off again. We were relieved because the summer heat had been beating down upon us all day long. No matter how many pears we ate, we couldn’t cool off. We had been out since 1 o’clock picking those same pears from off of the many trees in the orchard before they spoiled. We were lucky that the grass was low and we didn’t have to wear jeans, which would have been overwhelmingly hot. Instead, we were wearing shorts. I was in a pair of black shorts with white pinstripes and you were in a blue jean skirt with frayed edges. I loved that skirt, especially on today because, on occasion, whenever you would get on the step ladder and reach up high for some elusive pear, I had the fortune to see the quick outline of your black lacy boy shorts. Each time, I felt a quick shiver run down my spine and, miraculously, stop right in the middle of my legs causing a minor surge of blood to rush into my suddenly awoken member.

By the time we had collected a sufficient amount of pears the sun’s rays had died down so that the temperature had lowered itself from unbearably hot to tolerable and even slightly nice. Still we sat beneath the largest of the pear trees, eating our freshly picked pears and laughing amidst our conversation. My undershirt is stuck to my chest from the thin layer of sweat glistening off of me. Lifting those bags back and forth had been hard work and the veins protruding from my forearms were more proof to that. As I bite into a juicer then average peach the sweet juices begin to rush down the sides of my cheeks. I almost cry out in surprise as I feel your warm tongue lick the drop of juice off of my face. I look over at you as you chuckle at my mild shock. The look of surprise quickly changes into a smirk as I flick some pear juice onto your face. You start to reach for your shirt to wipe it away when I stop you. I pull myself close to your face, placing my right hand onto your left thigh and begin to kiss each drop off of your face. I start with your forehead, kissing across and getting three drops off of it. Then one drop from in between your eyebrows , another from your left cheek, and then, without the need for anything sweeter, I plant a kiss directly upon your lips. You can taste the sweetness on my lips.

I pull back and let out a little chuckle. You smile back at me and start to realize that the summer heat wasn’t what was making you hot this time. Unsure what to do, you reach down and hand me a rather large pear that had been resting. I look down at it and, without moving my head, glace up at you. My smile now holds something new. It isn’t just playful, there is a definite power building up behind this grin. I bring the hand holding the peach out and begin to crush the fruit over your chest causing the warm sticky juice to run in small drops down your slightly unbuttoned shirt. I then get up from where I had been sitting, place my hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently but firmly backwards on the ground as I begin to move towards you, my head moving towards your chest. Your back hits the ground and you feel my tongue begin to lap up the juices from your left breast while my hands work at unbuttoning your shirt even further. It seems like no time at all before your shirt is hanging on by only the sleeves, the rest has been pushed aside to make way for my firm and nimble tongue, cleaning every drop of nectar off of your soft flesh. You had almost forgotten that you were wearing a front clasp bra until it had been split down the middle, your ample breasts hitting the summer air and quickly being greeted by a set of soft lips and a firm tongue. In no time at all your nipples have stiffened under the stimulation and you start to notice that your boyshorts have gotten quite wet during all of this. You shift as to adjust them or possibly take them off, you haven’t decided, but I’m already ahead of you. My right hand jets downwards and plants the index finger directly upon your swollen clit, pressing firmly to release the first few waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You let out a small moan. Your hands reach up and clasp onto the jagged fabric of my undershirt, clenching the cotton in your hands as I press down once again. You silently thank yourself for shaving that morning as I slip my hand underneath the thin layer of fabric. You ball up my shirt even harder as I slip a single finger easily into your now flooded slit. You let go of my shirt and begin to claw at the ground, eventually finding enough grass on both sides of you to latch onto. You reopen your eyes with the feeling of the second finger moves its way inside of you. Looking down you see that I’m looking up at you, smiling. My eyes are dilated from the adrenalin and pleasure rushing into my brain and you realize that if mine are that large then I must not even be able to see the color of your eyes. But there is something else in my eyes, something barbaric, something powerful, something unbridled. Before you close your eyes once again you glance over into my lap and see a large bulge straining upwards against the fabric of my shorts. Your eyelids autonomously close by themselves as I finally find your G-spot and begin to press upon it in a swift thrusting rhythm.

Any ideas for an ending would be greatly appreciated,

- CstmErotica

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How Should This Story End?