The Other Side of the Island
Posted on: March 17, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
“There, is that better?” Peitr whispered into my ear.“Uhh. Yes, yes. That feels great,” I answered, and my words turned into a soft moan.“Yes, I can feel it in your body. You are a lot looser now. You are moving with me more smoothly. Is it because of the guilt?”“Yes,” I whispered. “This helps erase the guilt. It’s as if none of this is something I could do anything about now.”“I thought so,” Peitr whispered, and he began to move his cock inside me, dragging the head of his crocked dick along my ass canal at seven inches of depth, making my hips join in his motion. My eyes went to the ceiling paddle fan above us, gauging the thrusts of Peitr’s hips against the flap, flap sound and movement of the paddles. I tugged a bit on the two silk scarves lightly tying my wrists to the headboard above me, seeking assurance that I was imprisoned and couldn’t do anything to defend myself. Peitr’s strong, solid Dutchman’s body was closely covering mine on the bed, nipples to nipples and belly to belly. His legs covered mine, and I had my heels wrapped around his ankles. His arms covered mine, and he held his hands around the silk knots at my wrists, giving yet more of a comforting feel that I had no control over this. Only his hips and my pelvis were in motion, as the flap, flap of the ceiling fan above the brass bed moved what air there ...
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