- Joined
- Nov 24, 2013
- Messages
- 775
Flash-back to summer time. I was out with my wing-man Robin, as well as @K__ and @Grand Pooba, who were visiting for a few days.
It was just a few minutes before last call. We sauntered through the busiest street. . . in the most chaotic part of the city at this time. The downtown nightlife district. This segment of the city’s party-scene is mostly frequented by university co-eds. Needless to say it’s a vibrant part of town. A slightly-older crowd in their mid-20s can also be found in these venues. Graduates who still craved a taste of that nostalgic student-revelry.
You could see numerous venues crowding each side of the street. And hear the loud music from clubs and bars standing shoulder-to-shoulder.
Large droves of party-goers swarm the side-walks. People walking to another bar or club. Others smoking and chatting outside multiple venues. Drunk idiots arguing with bouncers. And those who decided to call it a night, waiting for their Ubers and trying to hail cabs. Even some cops could be seen. Ready for action if a fight broke out. We decided to spend the rest of the night picking off attractive girls from this crowd.
At this point I remember feeling tired and drained. . . I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d lose my appetite for socialization. So I told myself I would attempt just one more seduction. Looked through the crowd, carefully trying to find the last girl I would approach tonight.
And that’s when I saw her. Recognized her immediately from a magazine I’d seen a while ago. . .
She was tall, slim and smoking hot. A dark haired girl, with latte-colored skin and well-carved cheekbones. . . I could see she had a great body too. Amazing legs, round breasts, not to mention an ass inviting enough to please anyone sensitive to that area. She also happened to be locked in a mildly enthusiastic-looking conversation with two other guys, but I started walking over all the same.
Feeling a bolt of energy flowing through my veins. . . there was no way I was going to pass on an opportunity to sharp-shoot. Without looking at her once. I stand in ear-shot. . . light a cigarette and smoke it with style.
I listen to their ensuing discussion and try to form a plan to jump in, with an intriguing comment then steal the spotlight. Through my periphery vision, I notice her become aware of my presence. She even checks me out a couple times. “Do you know any good clubs around here?” She asks.
“I wish I could help you, all my favorite places closed down. . . shortly after I moved here.” I reply.
“Oh where did you move from?”
“Take a wild guess.”
Eventually told her after playing the guessing game for while. I found it amusing when she made the guys standing with her try and figure it out.
As it turns out. . . we both originate from the same part of West Africa. As she points out this common ground. . . I see the spark of excitement in her hazel-green eyes. Seems like we’re off to a great start with this sharp-shoot.
She follows up by telling me she’s half European, but has always been fascinated with African culture. Then she asks me if I’ve ever paid a visit to the homeland. I decide to use this question to evoke positive emotions with verbal game.
“I’ve been there a few times and. . . it really is fascinating when you think about how many ways travelling can really impact your life positively. Let’s say you take a trip to West Africa someday. While you’re exploring this part of the world, you'll get a chance to discover a deeper part of who you are. Now with me. . . I’d say this discovery allows you grow. As you connect and immerse yourself. . . in the culture of our ancestors.”
“Yeah! Oh my God. . . that’s so cool. I’ve been to Europe before but I’ve always wanted to learn more about the African part of who I am.”
We continue with a stimulating conversation on travelling and connections. The feeling of rapport deepens and the bubble between us grows stronger. It doesn’t take very long for the 3 other guys to move along, heading towards a nearby club and leaving the two of us in isolation.
Now in my seductions. . . I tend to use a lot of hypnotic and poetic sounding verbals.
This allows me to emotionally stimulate women and avoid boring conversations. . . entering a bubble were the two of us can take an exciting journey through an emotionally-charged and imaginative stream of consciousness. If you want to have consistent success in your seductions. . . it's important you to get women feeling powerful emotions. Not only will you reach the hook point often. . . it makes it easy to build compliance moving forward.
On the other hand. . . it's possible to take this process too far too quickly. . . and trigger female-state-control.
So what I usually do to prevent this. . . is use aspects of her personal life to take the boat off the docks. . . and into deeper waters. Most women are a tad narcissistic so there's little motivation to control her own state during a fascinating conversation about herself.
And if I find some common ground I'll use that too since FSC can be prevented with the strong rapport of a connection. Or I could just associate the wonderful feelings of connection with my presence. . . during this seduction I used all 3 just in case.
She mentions something about how a lot of West Africans are bible-thumping religious enthusiasts.
Now that we’re alone. . . I take her comment as an opportunity to steer our conversation towards a sexually-charged SOT. I start by saying I don’t agree with the idea of trying to force religion down people’s throats.
Then I add, “If you think about it. . . those conservative, sexually-repressive ideologies are old-fashioned and misguided. Sex is such a natural thing. . . and judging someone for their sexual expression is an immature way to live. I'd even say those people have decided not to have any fun in this life so they'll try to ruin everybody else’s fun. Misery loves company after all.” This laces our interaction with a non-judgmental frame.
“Yeah I agree, it’s old-fashioned to judge someone for who they choose to love. I guess for Christians, sharing their beliefs with others and converting people to their faith gives life meaning. I don’t agree with their beliefs but sometimes I wonder about the meaning of life, you know?”
At this point in our conversation, I decide to change gears by morphing into wise and philosophically-persuasive Bacchus.
“The way I see it. . . pleasure and passion gives life meaning. Whether it’s feeling the pleasure of personal growth. . . from travelling to new places, or the intense passion of creative expression, or even trusting your judgment enough. . . to lose yourself in this pleasure you feel. . . as you explore the depths of a genuine connection and the passionate spark of chemistry. These are the type of experiences which really give life meaning.” I reply.
“Wow that makes a lot of sense to me! I remember thinking you looked like a creative person. Are you an artist?“ She asks
“Yeah I do a lot of painting and sketching. . . if you can imagine it for a moment. As I take out my pencil. . . paintbrush and start on a new portrait. . . instantly I feel this deep sense of relaxation. It's like the more you paint. . . the more relaxed you feel. Something else worth mentioning is because the passion of creativity gives life meaning. . . I could paint for hours without feeling like I wasted even a second of my day.”
“Yes! I think it’s really cool that you paint. It’s such a pure form of creative expression. I’m a fashion model and a lot of people think it’s just about being pretty but for me it’s much more than that. I feel really good when I’m working because I always try to make art with my photoshoots.”
“And this pleasure you feel, as you elevate your photoshoots towards the realm of visual poetry. . . it fills you with a sense of purpose doesn’t it?”
“Yes it does.”
“This is what I mean by losing yourself in passion and pleasure gives life meaning.”
She lets me know I’m blowing her mind just a little bit. Now that we’re talking about creativity. . . another immersive and emotionally-engaging topic. I let her know I’m also involved in the industry of performing arts. As it turns out our talent agencies rival each other. Which she points out with in a flirtatious tone of voice. She shows me some pictures of her work on her social-media page, and we stand closer together to look at her phone, as we discuss our respective colleagues in the business. . . I even see the magazine cover I recognized her from.
Suddenly a tall, muscular and good-looking man walks up to us. My intuition tells me the odds things could go side-ways are very high.
Not a second later she introduces him as her boyfriend. As she tells him how cool she thinks I am, I decide to completely shift my focus and morph into friendly and non-threatening Bacchus. This part of the interaction was make or break.
I remove any hints in my body-language, that could make him feel insecure, or encourage over-protective behavior with this girl.
Luckily since we’re both two black actors with the goal of making solid progress in the entertainment industry, I find it easy enough for us build rapport using our shared commonalities and I befriended him quickly. And I guess it helped that his girlfriend wanted him to like me.
I turned to face him directly and we talk about the business, discuss some of the work hes done. I complimented his drive for success and we traded some funny audition stories. His girlfriend becomes something of a spectator to our connection-building conversation.
Then I learn that in a few months they plan to move to a larger city, for more acting and modelling job opportunities. I remember thinking about how leaving town permanently was the perfect set up for a discreet one-night-stand. After talking for about 5 minutes or so, her boyfriend leaves us to check on some of their friends at a nearby club. Internally I breathe a sigh of relief. . .
But before I can get a conversation going again. . . a few girls standing in the patio of a bar behind us, start with some giggly banter.
She turns towards them and they do some catching-up. Looks like they were part of the large group she went club-hopping with. I turn my body away from that interaction and throw on a bored look. They offer her a shot of rum, from a bottle they discreetly brought into the bar with them.
After looking at me briefly, she says “fuck it why not” and takes a swig from the bottle.
She gives the bottle back to those girls. Over my shoulder, I ask her if it was strong. . . she said said it was 40 proof. We have some light fluff talk, and she starts facing me again. I knew I had to act fast. . . because closing-time was on the horizon, and her boyfriend was bound to return at some point. So I took the conversation back to the topic of creative expression, with a different goal in mind.
Mentioned how I liked getting other people’s opinions on my work, and seeing my portraits from another person’s perspective. She tells me that’s a great way to refine my craft, and asks if I have any photos of my paintings on my phone.
Told her I don’t because looking at a photo of a portrait isn’t quite the same experience, as seeing it with your own two eyes.
Then I invite her to come to my studio, and have a look at these paintings. She tells me she’d love to because she just feels like I’m very talented. But she wants to get her boyfriend’s permission first. He wasn’t outside at this moment, so we just stood there silently after that.
I can see the internal emotional struggle behind her hazel-green eyes. Because she had a boyfriend, if it wasn’t for all the commonalities I emphasized during our conversation, I probably wouldn’t have even gotten this far before female-state-control kicked in.
But all she needed right now. . . was a nudge in the right direction.
I decide to make use of frame-control to influence her decision-making process by saying, “Remember trusting your judgment and feeling confident in your decision to explore a connection. . . allows you to have these types of experiences which life meaning. What’s more is this. . . seeing my portrait through your eyes. . . the eyes of another creative person, enables us to truly share in this passion of painting.”
“Yes I agree. . . I do really want to see your portraits. I just need to tell my boyfriend where I’m going.” She replies
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. . . you can text him my address. Let’s catch a cab.”
This is a particularly Machiavellian form of persuasion. . . I will be writing a tactical post covering it in more detail later. Just to give you the broad strokes. . . this technique involves the acute awareness of the innate desires of each girl you seduce.
Everyone has traits they desire, experiences they crave or wants to be seen in a certain way. After becoming aware of such a desire. Make use of frame-control to create an opportunity to get what she wants. . . by doing what you want her to do.
Then I start walking down the street towards parked taxi just a few meters away. I don’t look back. . . but I do footsteps following me. Smiled to myself as I see her come to stand beside me in my peripheral vision, while I tell the taxi-driver my address. We hop inside quickly and sit in the back.
Back at my place she reels off the usual compliments on my condo. I reel of the usual humble words of appreciation as I walk into my bedroom.
She follows me inside and I gesture to where I keep a stack of portraits in a box by my bed. We sit together and look at each painting.
She reels off the usual compliments about my artistic talent and tells me this is so much better, than just spending yet another boring weekend club-hopping with her group of friends. Then her hazel-green eyes sparkle with anticipation, as she points out the detailed eyes in these portraits.
“Yes there are a lot of powerful emotions people express in the eyes, the muscles of the face and the lips. . . now with me I think. . . it can be very fulfilling to capture and bring these feelings to life in a portrait.” I say while staring deeply into her eyes. And triangle-gazing seductively at her lips.
I pat the space beside me and tell her to come sit closer. And then she was in my arms. We kiss softly and lightly.
With one hand I sweep aside the pile of portraits off the bed. I wrap my other arm around her perfect figure and lay her down gently. I started with wet kisses on her neck. Then my tongue slid downwards, familiarizing itself with her exposed chest and the base of her breasts.
I escalate about 10 percent slower than she wants. . . to heighten her anticipation and avoid triggering resistance by rushing to sex.
Moved my mouth upwards again, so we could make out passionately and hungrily. I feel her chest rising and falling beneath me as we grind our bodies against each other. It wasn’t until she started tugging at my clothes, that I decided she was ready for the next step.
Took off my striped Brenton top and gripped her waist with both hands. Then I rest my head against her inner thighs for a moment. She breathes deeply as I continue looking at her with bedroom-eyes. Unbuttoned her tight skinny jeans.
She raises that great ass in the air. . . so I can take them off. Kissed inside and around her inner-thighs. Then I peel her panties off her smooth legs with my teeth. . . I eat her pussy until her heavy-breathing progresses past soft purrs. . . into passionately sensual moans.
Then I take her hand. . . and press it against my dick. She starts pulling off my jeans and I quickly grab a condom out from under my pillowcase. Spread her body like a peace-sign and penetrated her quivering loins. Went in and out of her. . . slowly at first.
Then told her to wrap her arms around me. As I gradually picked up the pace. Great sex ensues.
Passionate, animalistic and aesthetically-pleasing. Just the way I like it. . .
It was just a few minutes before last call. We sauntered through the busiest street. . . in the most chaotic part of the city at this time. The downtown nightlife district. This segment of the city’s party-scene is mostly frequented by university co-eds. Needless to say it’s a vibrant part of town. A slightly-older crowd in their mid-20s can also be found in these venues. Graduates who still craved a taste of that nostalgic student-revelry.
You could see numerous venues crowding each side of the street. And hear the loud music from clubs and bars standing shoulder-to-shoulder.
Large droves of party-goers swarm the side-walks. People walking to another bar or club. Others smoking and chatting outside multiple venues. Drunk idiots arguing with bouncers. And those who decided to call it a night, waiting for their Ubers and trying to hail cabs. Even some cops could be seen. Ready for action if a fight broke out. We decided to spend the rest of the night picking off attractive girls from this crowd.
At this point I remember feeling tired and drained. . . I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d lose my appetite for socialization. So I told myself I would attempt just one more seduction. Looked through the crowd, carefully trying to find the last girl I would approach tonight.
And that’s when I saw her. Recognized her immediately from a magazine I’d seen a while ago. . .
She was tall, slim and smoking hot. A dark haired girl, with latte-colored skin and well-carved cheekbones. . . I could see she had a great body too. Amazing legs, round breasts, not to mention an ass inviting enough to please anyone sensitive to that area. She also happened to be locked in a mildly enthusiastic-looking conversation with two other guys, but I started walking over all the same.
Feeling a bolt of energy flowing through my veins. . . there was no way I was going to pass on an opportunity to sharp-shoot. Without looking at her once. I stand in ear-shot. . . light a cigarette and smoke it with style.
I listen to their ensuing discussion and try to form a plan to jump in, with an intriguing comment then steal the spotlight. Through my periphery vision, I notice her become aware of my presence. She even checks me out a couple times. “Do you know any good clubs around here?” She asks.
“I wish I could help you, all my favorite places closed down. . . shortly after I moved here.” I reply.
“Oh where did you move from?”
“Take a wild guess.”
Eventually told her after playing the guessing game for while. I found it amusing when she made the guys standing with her try and figure it out.
As it turns out. . . we both originate from the same part of West Africa. As she points out this common ground. . . I see the spark of excitement in her hazel-green eyes. Seems like we’re off to a great start with this sharp-shoot.
She follows up by telling me she’s half European, but has always been fascinated with African culture. Then she asks me if I’ve ever paid a visit to the homeland. I decide to use this question to evoke positive emotions with verbal game.
“I’ve been there a few times and. . . it really is fascinating when you think about how many ways travelling can really impact your life positively. Let’s say you take a trip to West Africa someday. While you’re exploring this part of the world, you'll get a chance to discover a deeper part of who you are. Now with me. . . I’d say this discovery allows you grow. As you connect and immerse yourself. . . in the culture of our ancestors.”
“Yeah! Oh my God. . . that’s so cool. I’ve been to Europe before but I’ve always wanted to learn more about the African part of who I am.”
We continue with a stimulating conversation on travelling and connections. The feeling of rapport deepens and the bubble between us grows stronger. It doesn’t take very long for the 3 other guys to move along, heading towards a nearby club and leaving the two of us in isolation.
Now in my seductions. . . I tend to use a lot of hypnotic and poetic sounding verbals.
This allows me to emotionally stimulate women and avoid boring conversations. . . entering a bubble were the two of us can take an exciting journey through an emotionally-charged and imaginative stream of consciousness. If you want to have consistent success in your seductions. . . it's important you to get women feeling powerful emotions. Not only will you reach the hook point often. . . it makes it easy to build compliance moving forward.
On the other hand. . . it's possible to take this process too far too quickly. . . and trigger female-state-control.
So what I usually do to prevent this. . . is use aspects of her personal life to take the boat off the docks. . . and into deeper waters. Most women are a tad narcissistic so there's little motivation to control her own state during a fascinating conversation about herself.
And if I find some common ground I'll use that too since FSC can be prevented with the strong rapport of a connection. Or I could just associate the wonderful feelings of connection with my presence. . . during this seduction I used all 3 just in case.
She mentions something about how a lot of West Africans are bible-thumping religious enthusiasts.
Now that we’re alone. . . I take her comment as an opportunity to steer our conversation towards a sexually-charged SOT. I start by saying I don’t agree with the idea of trying to force religion down people’s throats.
Then I add, “If you think about it. . . those conservative, sexually-repressive ideologies are old-fashioned and misguided. Sex is such a natural thing. . . and judging someone for their sexual expression is an immature way to live. I'd even say those people have decided not to have any fun in this life so they'll try to ruin everybody else’s fun. Misery loves company after all.” This laces our interaction with a non-judgmental frame.
“Yeah I agree, it’s old-fashioned to judge someone for who they choose to love. I guess for Christians, sharing their beliefs with others and converting people to their faith gives life meaning. I don’t agree with their beliefs but sometimes I wonder about the meaning of life, you know?”
At this point in our conversation, I decide to change gears by morphing into wise and philosophically-persuasive Bacchus.
“The way I see it. . . pleasure and passion gives life meaning. Whether it’s feeling the pleasure of personal growth. . . from travelling to new places, or the intense passion of creative expression, or even trusting your judgment enough. . . to lose yourself in this pleasure you feel. . . as you explore the depths of a genuine connection and the passionate spark of chemistry. These are the type of experiences which really give life meaning.” I reply.
“Wow that makes a lot of sense to me! I remember thinking you looked like a creative person. Are you an artist?“ She asks
“Yeah I do a lot of painting and sketching. . . if you can imagine it for a moment. As I take out my pencil. . . paintbrush and start on a new portrait. . . instantly I feel this deep sense of relaxation. It's like the more you paint. . . the more relaxed you feel. Something else worth mentioning is because the passion of creativity gives life meaning. . . I could paint for hours without feeling like I wasted even a second of my day.”
“Yes! I think it’s really cool that you paint. It’s such a pure form of creative expression. I’m a fashion model and a lot of people think it’s just about being pretty but for me it’s much more than that. I feel really good when I’m working because I always try to make art with my photoshoots.”
“And this pleasure you feel, as you elevate your photoshoots towards the realm of visual poetry. . . it fills you with a sense of purpose doesn’t it?”
“Yes it does.”
“This is what I mean by losing yourself in passion and pleasure gives life meaning.”
She lets me know I’m blowing her mind just a little bit. Now that we’re talking about creativity. . . another immersive and emotionally-engaging topic. I let her know I’m also involved in the industry of performing arts. As it turns out our talent agencies rival each other. Which she points out with in a flirtatious tone of voice. She shows me some pictures of her work on her social-media page, and we stand closer together to look at her phone, as we discuss our respective colleagues in the business. . . I even see the magazine cover I recognized her from.
Suddenly a tall, muscular and good-looking man walks up to us. My intuition tells me the odds things could go side-ways are very high.
Not a second later she introduces him as her boyfriend. As she tells him how cool she thinks I am, I decide to completely shift my focus and morph into friendly and non-threatening Bacchus. This part of the interaction was make or break.
I remove any hints in my body-language, that could make him feel insecure, or encourage over-protective behavior with this girl.
Luckily since we’re both two black actors with the goal of making solid progress in the entertainment industry, I find it easy enough for us build rapport using our shared commonalities and I befriended him quickly. And I guess it helped that his girlfriend wanted him to like me.
I turned to face him directly and we talk about the business, discuss some of the work hes done. I complimented his drive for success and we traded some funny audition stories. His girlfriend becomes something of a spectator to our connection-building conversation.
Then I learn that in a few months they plan to move to a larger city, for more acting and modelling job opportunities. I remember thinking about how leaving town permanently was the perfect set up for a discreet one-night-stand. After talking for about 5 minutes or so, her boyfriend leaves us to check on some of their friends at a nearby club. Internally I breathe a sigh of relief. . .
But before I can get a conversation going again. . . a few girls standing in the patio of a bar behind us, start with some giggly banter.
She turns towards them and they do some catching-up. Looks like they were part of the large group she went club-hopping with. I turn my body away from that interaction and throw on a bored look. They offer her a shot of rum, from a bottle they discreetly brought into the bar with them.
After looking at me briefly, she says “fuck it why not” and takes a swig from the bottle.
She gives the bottle back to those girls. Over my shoulder, I ask her if it was strong. . . she said said it was 40 proof. We have some light fluff talk, and she starts facing me again. I knew I had to act fast. . . because closing-time was on the horizon, and her boyfriend was bound to return at some point. So I took the conversation back to the topic of creative expression, with a different goal in mind.
Mentioned how I liked getting other people’s opinions on my work, and seeing my portraits from another person’s perspective. She tells me that’s a great way to refine my craft, and asks if I have any photos of my paintings on my phone.
Told her I don’t because looking at a photo of a portrait isn’t quite the same experience, as seeing it with your own two eyes.
Then I invite her to come to my studio, and have a look at these paintings. She tells me she’d love to because she just feels like I’m very talented. But she wants to get her boyfriend’s permission first. He wasn’t outside at this moment, so we just stood there silently after that.
I can see the internal emotional struggle behind her hazel-green eyes. Because she had a boyfriend, if it wasn’t for all the commonalities I emphasized during our conversation, I probably wouldn’t have even gotten this far before female-state-control kicked in.
But all she needed right now. . . was a nudge in the right direction.
I decide to make use of frame-control to influence her decision-making process by saying, “Remember trusting your judgment and feeling confident in your decision to explore a connection. . . allows you to have these types of experiences which life meaning. What’s more is this. . . seeing my portrait through your eyes. . . the eyes of another creative person, enables us to truly share in this passion of painting.”
“Yes I agree. . . I do really want to see your portraits. I just need to tell my boyfriend where I’m going.” She replies
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. . . you can text him my address. Let’s catch a cab.”
This is a particularly Machiavellian form of persuasion. . . I will be writing a tactical post covering it in more detail later. Just to give you the broad strokes. . . this technique involves the acute awareness of the innate desires of each girl you seduce.
Everyone has traits they desire, experiences they crave or wants to be seen in a certain way. After becoming aware of such a desire. Make use of frame-control to create an opportunity to get what she wants. . . by doing what you want her to do.
Then I start walking down the street towards parked taxi just a few meters away. I don’t look back. . . but I do footsteps following me. Smiled to myself as I see her come to stand beside me in my peripheral vision, while I tell the taxi-driver my address. We hop inside quickly and sit in the back.
Back at my place she reels off the usual compliments on my condo. I reel of the usual humble words of appreciation as I walk into my bedroom.
She follows me inside and I gesture to where I keep a stack of portraits in a box by my bed. We sit together and look at each painting.
She reels off the usual compliments about my artistic talent and tells me this is so much better, than just spending yet another boring weekend club-hopping with her group of friends. Then her hazel-green eyes sparkle with anticipation, as she points out the detailed eyes in these portraits.
“Yes there are a lot of powerful emotions people express in the eyes, the muscles of the face and the lips. . . now with me I think. . . it can be very fulfilling to capture and bring these feelings to life in a portrait.” I say while staring deeply into her eyes. And triangle-gazing seductively at her lips.
I pat the space beside me and tell her to come sit closer. And then she was in my arms. We kiss softly and lightly.
With one hand I sweep aside the pile of portraits off the bed. I wrap my other arm around her perfect figure and lay her down gently. I started with wet kisses on her neck. Then my tongue slid downwards, familiarizing itself with her exposed chest and the base of her breasts.
I escalate about 10 percent slower than she wants. . . to heighten her anticipation and avoid triggering resistance by rushing to sex.
Moved my mouth upwards again, so we could make out passionately and hungrily. I feel her chest rising and falling beneath me as we grind our bodies against each other. It wasn’t until she started tugging at my clothes, that I decided she was ready for the next step.
Took off my striped Brenton top and gripped her waist with both hands. Then I rest my head against her inner thighs for a moment. She breathes deeply as I continue looking at her with bedroom-eyes. Unbuttoned her tight skinny jeans.
She raises that great ass in the air. . . so I can take them off. Kissed inside and around her inner-thighs. Then I peel her panties off her smooth legs with my teeth. . . I eat her pussy until her heavy-breathing progresses past soft purrs. . . into passionately sensual moans.
Then I take her hand. . . and press it against my dick. She starts pulling off my jeans and I quickly grab a condom out from under my pillowcase. Spread her body like a peace-sign and penetrated her quivering loins. Went in and out of her. . . slowly at first.
Then told her to wrap her arms around me. As I gradually picked up the pace. Great sex ensues.
Passionate, animalistic and aesthetically-pleasing. Just the way I like it. . .
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