Sunday, June 28, 2015

The Butterfly Chronicles - the Hunter and the Hunted

Flesh (novel)
Flesh (novel) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I'm a dog in heat. A primal pleasure beast. A carnivore, hunting for flesh; your flesh. A hunter not to hurt you, but to please you, to be pleased, to love you, to make you feel loved. I need to feel your skin on mine, your hot breath gasping into my face, my ears, my neck. I need to feel your nails clawing into me, ripping my skin, piercing into my flesh, making me scream, your eyes burning through my soul.

I need to feel your sweat pouring on top of me, drenching me with the byproduct of our sexual adventures. I need to feel my cock pulsating inside of you, every part of you. I need to feel your teeth as you drag them up and down every throbbing inch of my cock. I need to feel your tongue flick the tip of it, then trailing saliva onto it. I need to feel your lips encircle it, while your throat muscles milk my creamy goodness from it.

I need to have an erotic workout. I need to study every inch of you, every curve. I need to fuck you in so many positions, exploring what makes you tick, what makes you cum. Perhaps driving my cock up your ass will make you ride harder, as I pound you hard, pulling your hair backwards as I hear you scream erotic screams.

I need to feel your pussy muscles suck my cock inside of you, trapping it with your tightness. I need to feel your pussy muscles contract around it, squeezing it, enticing my cum out of my muscular pipe.

I feel it. My blood boiling, my veins burning, my breath shortening, my heart pounding, my muscles tightening, my cock throbbing. My body's raging, wanting you, needing you to extinguish the erotic flame burning inside me, waiting to be sated.

I know you need the same things. You feel that primal urge, that need to fuck and to be fucked. Your pussy is wet just thinking about it. You're twitching your legs, squeezing them as you feel that tingling between your thighs. You're primed and ready for it. You need to ride hard, to be ridden hard. You need to grind into my hips, feeling every inch of me inside you. You need to feel thigh upon thigh, skin upon skin.

You sense it. That time is near. The howling, the grunting, the grinding, lust building, the inferno blazing. The satisfaction one gets from being pleased, from pleasing another. The feeling of temptation accomplished. The barking at the moon, the call of the wild, the erotic yearning of flesh unfulfilled. You're hunting, too. Come hunt me. 

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