Flip

Sweet, delicious moans fell from those pale parted lips, long fingers writhing and twisting in the hair of the angel above. A shallow thrust from slender hips brought a ragged sigh and an accompanying arch. Like a whore, legs were already obscenely spread to reveal that delightfully tight place.

“Harder! Oh, God, harder! Please!” the intoxicating words were merely the invitation he had already accepted. But deeper he wanted, and deeper he went.

The lackadaisical rotation of svelte hips quickly turned to savage ways. Thrust upon thrust, he drove deeper and deeper within; the flesh ripping and the suddenly tightened passage bleeding, ensuring the silkiest screams were gained from his bed-partner’s throat.

Oh, God. That burning now, so unbelievably deep. Twisting pain spirals along the length of insides, spreading the fire, worsening that ache. The world has already gone a searing white, or maybe his eyes are closed; either way, the sudden jolt of the built up orgasm blinds him further into a spinning cacophony of pained release.

That heavy shaft is still doing its damage inside; still not done, but almost there, speeding up to a feverish and animalistic pace before that last grinding drive throws him over the final threshold of pleasure.

Harsh, panting groans were the music of the air, a melodic note added to the euphony as the auricomous pretty withdrew from the atramentous god beneath. Breaths quickened once more as lips united in a bruising kiss, the aphotic one’s specialty, and ice touched crystal met doleful titian.

“It’s my turn to be on top,”