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He understood instantly, and took up the challenge of my invitation with easy confidence. His body literally dissolved before my eyes (I was by then quite unaware of the presence of the crowd), spreading into a form that managed to be almost entirely amorphous yet throbbingly muscular at the same time. His ‘ bread ‘ (the ground) and my body became one — he was as aware of it as I — and I could almost feel him pouring himself over me, onto me, into me, suffusing me with the hot lotion of his glorious sex. Almost. By the time he had finished I would have gone with him anywhere. If he had no place to go, I would have made love to him there on the asphalt, in the very heart of the crowded festival. I would have offered my body as public testimony to his skill, as a sheath in which to place the sword of his essence, as an urn for the oil of his steamy masculinity. Luckily, no such public display on my part was necessary. Paul used the butter on toast routine as an excuse to end his show. " he whispered.He now braced his arms one on either side on me as I felt the mattress sink a little as it took as his weight.I reached up and put my hands around the back of his neck and we gazed into each other's eyes.His cock now filled me. He stopped. He held himself there for exquisite seconds that seemed to me like a joyous hour.We looked at each other. Our hard pleasured breathing the only sound, yet I could hear my heartbeat as it quickened to beat a rapid tattoo.He shut his eyes. I felt him retreat - I tightened my grip on him both with my hands and my hole, he eased back...iI feared he was leaving me! Joy..relief...despair ...I wanted him back in me, to be part of him....then he advanced again this time with vigour....all this in less than second.He slowly, firmly yet gently fucked me.My breath moaned out with each thrust. His eyes shut in concentration, I knew this would not be a long fuck as I felt him swell inside me.A moan from my left.I had forgotten her. Normally she.
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