Lonely in the night The rattle of squeaking wood wakes you up. A few rhythmic knocks against the wall, capture all your

Lonely in the night The rattle of squeaking wood wakes you up. A few rhythmic knocks against the wall, capture all your interest. Some muffled grunts of effort awaken your morbid curiosity. But a few screams of pleasure, they just screw. You get angry. You know that what doesn't let you sleep is not noise, but envy. Would you like to be the one who is opening your legs before a pumping cylinder of meat. Would you like to be the one who tastes that sausage without stopping? male while massaging hairy, hardened testicles. You would like to be the one who scratches a back and bites a neck because of the stinging they are causing in your crotch. But it's not you, it's your roommate. What you don't envy is the excitement and humidity in the English. You never envy what you have. Rage. Anger for not having accepted the invitation. while you you preferred to rest from a day of hard work, your roommate has brought the cat to the water (or the cock to the crotch, from the looks of it). You haven't even seen him, but you are convinced that he is the best lover in the world, with the longest and thickest cock that can exist and that, Furthermore, he knows how to use it like no one you have ever met in your sad life. The word "God" echoing on the adjacent walls make you rethink your agnostic existence, while your hand, dead of cold, heads to the hottest place for miles around, no matter what the Church says about it. You just want to put out that fire that eats your insides. You just want to see if you're as wet as you think you are. You just want to feel it that she feels. Just check it and then go to sleep. You notice a finger crossing your pubic hair. Again you You tell yourself that you only want to look if you are very wet. The increase in the rhythm of the blows on the wall provides life of its own to your fingers that have already gotten inside your clothes. You definitely leave sleeping for later. The fingers always empirically overcome what the mind has imagined. Infinite heat surrounds them as they rub against the clitoris. Connoisseurs of your body more than yourself, they know that it is still early for that. With stealth, They go lower, finding a gap eager to be filled. Turned into red-hot knives they sink into the shaved butter from your crotch. You arch your back a little. You open your mouth slightly. You close the sphincter to hug, with sincere love for your vaginal muscles, those useful appendages that God has given you. As the finger penetrates you, you try to stifle your gasp. that is born in your throat, as if the inside of your body had to compensate what your fingers have filled. You just try, you don't get it. Sex is so full of intentions The gasping increases as the finger reaches as far as possible. deep as he can, separating your walls, noticing each fold and smearing himself with his humidity. You would want to keep it there for eternity, while you squeeze the palm against the clitoris. Right now you can't find an explanation for not being always like this, with a finger inside you even when you go to work, when you go to eat at your parents' house, when you go to confession, if you did. The finger goes in and out to the rhythm of your mental nonsense, which Likewise, they go to the rhythm of the hits on the wall. Your other hand, envious by nature, begins to search occupations. Start by picking up your shirt, going over your navel, the only hole that you have not yet found utility or use for, going through the ribs one by one as a countdown. Counting ribs, the middle finger has joined the index finger inside your guts. Knowing your dimensions, the fingers limit themselves to entering and leave without forcing. The two fingers placed in parallel open you up, while the other hand is already rubbing one of the tits. Large, soft circles awaken a sleepy little fleshy button that is already pressing on the palm of the hand. The knocks on the wall disappear as suddenly as they have. started. Pulling your imagination, you see the guy stretched out on his back asking for a change of position. Granting his requests, you squat down. You spread your legs imagining a hot and hairy body under your calves. You even notice the rhythmic palpitating of the elongated being that rests between your legs. You raise your head like she should be doing, looking at the ceiling but focused on your crotch. You imagine her on top of him, with her legs on either side. of his body. You imagine her holding the member. Can you imagine her raising her ass and directing her cock towards its bulb. Can you imagine her moving her hand until she hits the point of access. Can you imagine her closing her eyes and biting her lip? top to suppress excess excitement. Can you imagine her lowering her ass. Your hand goes behind your ass. You place its back against the bed and leave three of his fingers straight like stakes. The most perfect imitation of a dick you can get. Without stopping rubbing your breasts, you relax your legs until notice your labia majora separating into a large vertical smile. Before the smile turns into laughter, you go back up. And you go down. And you gasp. And you go up. And you breathe. And you go down. And you go down. And you scream, raising your head like she must be doing. I scream your name as loud as I can. She screams his name. The blows from the side have given way to a "ñec-ñec" of battered mattress. The change of direction of the fucking is clear: from "Forward-backward", they have gone to "up-down". You imagine her clinging to him, running her hands over his perfect pectoral muscles. You imagine her running wild like an Amazon riding a horse out of control. You imagine her with her hair dancing without order or rhythm, the tits rising and falling freely. You imagine her trying to reach the ground with her ass and heaven with her orgasm. I ask you to press harder. I want to feel what she feels I ask you to go deeper. I want to scream like she screams. I ask you that I want to feel your cocoon press under my lungs. You feel your tits sway like hers, without brakes or control, and with the nipples dizzy with so much back and forth. You close your legs like she should be doing, imprisoning the vaginal intruder. You move your ass back and forth on his thighs, getting to rub new parts of your interior. The noise stops in the other room. My bed continues to moan, and even more so when I drop all my weight. on the hand, feeling the fingers perfectly, entering almost, until the knuckles. I scream again when I feel them separating inside me straining my cervix. A scream answered from the next room. Your morbid curiosity makes you stop. Two hits in a row on the wall. A shout announces to the entire neighborhood the change of hole. access to the interior of my partner. With my brain's x-ray vision, I see it with my palms leaning against the wall, trying to cross it to escape the irrefutable fate of your ass. You imagine it fully in the uncertainty that precedes any sodomization: on the one hand the desire to run away while screaming someone help you. On the other hand, the irresistible offer of the dirtiest and dirty things they can do to your body. My ass keeps going up and down along my inert fingers, while my clam fills them with lubricating fluids. something of which the desecrated ass of the other room is missing. This is denoted by the continua screams from her. Driven by the need to safeguard my wrist (if I continue moving my ass like this it won't take me two seconds to split her in half) I decide imitate my friend. I get up, leaving my fingers shaking like snakes on the quilt Envious as I am and on my knees as I am, I imagine her on all fours, clinging to the headboard of the bed, with her fists clenched, while His anus creaks like the structure of the bed before the onslaught of the cylinder. sodomizing Because of the noise, you doubt what will break first: the bed, the wall or my partner's ass. I imagine his ass screaming to please stop coming in on him, while she screams at him that she wants more, and more. I imagine her rubbing her clitoris to counteract that unbearable pain that seems to never end. I imagine her with her hair coming and going while her face is stamped again and again against the wall I imagine her rubbing as hard as I do. On your knees, with my face between the pillow, my hand disappears very low, passing between the legs and going up and down along my entrance slit. The attacks and Crazy things lead me to go further than I thought. With your hands lost in your basses, you remember your first anal. You remember the first stab of pain in your rectum and you wondered why You agreed to something similar. Maybe because of the desire to feel something new, maybe because no one will be able to say that you are a virgin of something, perhaps for getting to do what your friends have told you that they have done. What you remember most is that combination of absolute terror and uncontrollable excitement. A explosive cocktail for which you know there is no turning back. Do you remember that, once, your screams let you hear your thoughts, you thought about how dirty the hole they were penetrating you, how dirty that that cock must be in there, in case he would see something that only you and your toilet you have seen, it didn't disgust him. But, on the other hand, dying to feel how it explodes in your rectum and throw yourself on it like a possessed woman while still spitting out remains, trying to see what that tastes like. meat ice cream after leaving your most infected hole. You remember perfectly how, before putting it in your mouth, you didn't You were able to suppress the instinct to check if "that" was dirty with traces of your ass You know that you are a clean girl, but you also know that it is something that is not can be controlled. The brands that, from time to time, appear on your underwear This is how they demonstrate it. You remember perfectly how, upon disappearing between your lips, you concentrated on trying to guess what each flavor corresponded to. It filled you: which tasted like cock, which tasted like pussy, and which tasted like ass. You remember how little you liked the sensation of dripping in that part of your body. The drops of semen flowing from your anus reminded you of others occasions of gastric dysfunctions. You remember how, when you were left alone, you didn't stop touching yourself. Do you remember how you saw how much that had been delayed? small hole. Do you remember that you thought you could never control anything again? Coming stomach cramp. Do you remember how you spent three days without being able to sit well and that, every time you did it, you felt like everyone was looking at you and, seeing you tilted, he knew perfectly well what they had done to you the night before. With these memories your fingers pass from the soft humidity of the bunny to the harsh dryness of the anus. Converted into a ferry that travels the distance between non-stop holes with a calm and concise mission: moisten my entrance later. The closed emergency exit ring of my body, it takes in reacting. Back there I have never had problems with the exits, but with the tickets Also, no one has used it in a while, so it's not going to be a task easy. Crazy with envy, I focus on my intimacies. both hands they work: the right hand rubs my clitoris and gets into my slit, while the An anal dilation of the host takes place on the left. Shouting your name, I manage to insert a phalanx into the deepest point of my buttocks. As other times, a third hand was missing. Like other times, I end up rubbing my breasts hard against the sheet Like other times, I curse myself for having lost that disproportionate dildo that deflowered my youth. The softness of my shaved pussy is infinite with so much humidity accumulated there. A dildo would penetrate me as easily as a rocket pierces a cloud. Damn, how you long for that piece of latex. With his ass in the air, his face buried in the pillow and his hands covering all my bottoms, I move my hips again at a good pace, going up and down while my hand goes down and up and the other presses inward. Rubbing makes me forget the little toy (If you had seen it you would know that the diminutive is because of the affection he had for him and not because of his size) Half a finger disappears into my little ass. Three fingers fuck me while the thumb rubs the swollen and hardened clitoris. I imagine my friend again enjoying being fucked, covered in sweat, with her buttocks marked by the hands of her anal fucker, and with her pussy dripping painfully. Suddenly, the diffuse images that my brain receives become come back sharp, clear and I see myself with my eyes closed, my mouth open in a silent scream, feeling your balls bouncing against my pussy, your hands holding my buttocksTime seems to slow down and everything around me seems go in slow motion, as if it were a distant vision. Everything returns to its normal rhythm, just for a thousandth of a second. Right now something explodes between my two hands and everything goes haywire and accelerates around me. For a few moments, even if only a few seconds, I flee, I leave myself, I swell with light and become clear, I touch the stars and I return to my body without memory, happy and with tremors that make me shake to the core more hidden from my muscles. My mouth opens until it breaks, the tongue comes out like a rocket in search of the sky, the fingers of the hands cling to the sheet making it bleed, my feet separate in a comical and impossible stampede, my back arches until my spine creaks, my throat screams until she became mute. My legs become hard like those of an athlete, my ass becomes It contracts and my vagina suffers an earthquake that not even Richter could evaluate. On my stellar journey I have been able to see myself with a finger completely inserted into my anus, the other hand clinging to my vagina. By On top of the wall I could see her with her face against the wall, almost crying with pleasure, a hand clinging to his buttock asking him to come even deeper while the legs of the bed shake and creak asking for a rest. He pressing his piston against her buttocks wanting to leave his ass in two, with his perfect abs tensed, his biceps screaming with so much tension and his huge cock entering and leaving two reddened buttocks. With the image of his cock deforming her ass, The tremors in my pussy are fading, turning into drowsiness. impassable. Tiredness takes over me, the darkness grows, I hugs me, surrounds me once, and again, and again, and . The next morning I wake up feeling new. With renewed vigor and energy I head to the bathroom. I need one shower urgently. On my fingers a thin and dry layer that I need to remove before its smell reaches me. The beauty of my pubes and crotch too needs rinsing. When I get to the door, it opens letting me out. companion. She is wearing a bathrobe while she rubs her hair with a towel. We greeted each other with a brief "good morning." I won't tell you anything else. I feel very uncomfortable in front of her. Me I feel like a traitor for having been listening to her while she was fucking. Feel despicable for needing the success of another to calm my internal fury. She doesn't tell me anything else either. It surprises me. Not even a knowing smile before boasting about the best fuck dwarves. I watch her walk as she goes into her room. "Still It's pretty normal. The guy shouldn't have it so big" I think. femininely when I close the bathroom door. If I went into her room now I would find her keeping something in the closet. Something I will never get to see. Something that, as I have told you, I miss it sometimes. Something that was "misplaced" during the move. Something that fucked her last night