silverlaker

We made pasta primavera. With pesto and asparagus only. So it wasnt really primavera at all. But thats what Dahlia called it and I didnt care. We ate in bed. At 2am. Thats when we finally finished devouring each others every drop...and we were hungry. Before and after. She had the sweetest pussy I had ever tasted. It was like fresh honey and cantaloupe juice. My fingers in her, segued to my fingers clenching a beautiful black dildo, again in her. But this time, thrusting. The sheets were soaked. She loved the way I fucked her. I hardly made a sound. My eyes always on her. Dahlia was noisy...and she talked dirty. Fuck me with that big cock, Fina. Up my ass, too, baby. Oooh. Grind it. Work it. Do it. Yeah, baby. Do it. She often repeated these phrases, tailoring them to the particular situation. But it always sounded like nasty, fuck me talk. And it always it turned me on.
I am sitting at my desk, writing this, and I have to stop and get off. The recent recollection of last night is still so steamy.
Excuse me.

Ahhhm. Much better.

Tonight Ill be helping with the success of Serges cocktail party. He wants me to pose and dance in a large lucite box, wearing go-go boots and a black bikini. Tocca is helping him orchestrate the installation. Its all very ornamental.

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