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My Drunken Stupor
My Drunken Stupor
Nonetheless, I instantly envisioned her naked and how warm and smooth she would feel and oh, how desperately I wanted to grab that ass! But then, as she finally walked past, I saw her face. The shadows that hung from her choppy bangs could not disrupt her incontestable beauty. She was gorgeous in the most unforced way possible. Her eyes were slightly sunken, but not in a drugged out I need to go to rehab way. More so, they looked as if they were accented by bruises and I couldn't imagine anything sexier. It was in that moment that I knew I would one day tie her down and we'd bite and bleed and fuck.
I recall thinking up some random poem in those following minutes, something like, "I need to hurt in order to scream, so punish me and meet my needs. Feed me pain while we fuck. Bring me down to pull me up." It was a little rusty, but definitely captured what I was thinking at the time.
She then became my obsession, or perhaps, the object of my private stalking. I searched for her wherever I went and on a few occasions I'd find her sitting in a lounge or reading some archaic book. It was then I began to notice how much attention she actually drew to herself and I was further shocked to see that she never acknowledged it. It was as if she was alone in the world, merely meandering through sceneries without ever appreciating them. I think I found her lack of care for anything most attractive.
Aw fuck. I can see my pathetic face now so intent on pursuing her, searching through her with my eyes. I wanted so desperately to know every part of her. What was it she listened to as she idly paced the corridors? What words resonated in her head as she read such peculiar books in the back corner of the library? But most of all, I wanted to know what she was thinking. She always seemed such a distractible mess, as if she wanted no part of this world, but instead was completely content in a place I've never known.
So this pattern of searching and staring continued for a few months until one Thursday night in March something sensational happened. I had been carelessly drunk, rummaging through some papers some dick left on the bench where I was sitting, when all of a sudden my heart bounded fiercely against my ribs. The night air was stale and it burned my throat as I half choked on my spit. I was beginning to freak out, and I knew from the uncanny silence that something strange was waiting to unfold. And that was when it happened.
Samantha Carter was stumbling, struggling to carry a bag of books and some I assume she is heavily intoxicated, I was drink just across the court. I began to shake and in my drunken confidence I did something I'd never intended: I ditched my Crush and jumped, well, tried to rise quickly, to my feet. Before I could interpret what my body was doing I was halfway to her. In the few seconds I spent traveling forth my mind was plundered by maddening thoughts: "What was I doing!? What was I going to say; what if I freaked her out?" But then, as if I knew precisely what she was thinking, I joined her side and retrieved a few of her books that had just smashed to the ground.
Here, I've got them. What have you been reading, you must have had a lot of work, I spoke, my voice crackling like a hot coal. I was still dumbfounded by what had just occurred, but I knew that I was too far in now to just hand them back and leave. She responded with a sigh and I wasn't a bit surprised. I almost expected she would find words a waste. There emanated from her some strange aura of ocean air and a self-assured coolness that I was immediately fond of. As if transfixed by some higher power I raised my eyes to her for the first time and I knew that this was the perfect moment.
I cannot recall the pang of her books as they slumped out of my hand and on to the ground again. I cannot recall exactly where we stood or if it there was a breeze caressing us as I turned to face her. All I can remember is that somehow, shy, outcast me was at that instant enflamed by passion and an unfamiliar courage. As I leaned forward and smoothly slid my arm around her my insides were squirming on a molecular level. I could not believe what was happening, and it was then that I stroked her cheek, tilted her head and kissed her once, a gentle tap. Her lips were like plush pillows that ignited so many sensations as they met mine. I was enveloped by a sea of shock and exhilaration and lust.
That was before I realized that she, in her unyielding simple manner, had not hesitated. There was no pause; she did not force herself from me as I crept closer. Instead, she willingly accepted my offer and kissed me back. What the hell did this mean? I was so unsure of my actions. Did she regret what had just taken place? Fuck it I thought- I had tasted her once and I'd never known anything as wonderful. It was because of this I knew I had to do it again, and so I did. That night we made out under a crumbling sky city of stars, emblazed by our passion, like flaming trees etched across the horizon. And that was all it took. From that moment on Samantha Carter was figuratively was everything?
The next morning I awoke in my ridiculously comfy bed, I had a memory foam mattress pad, amused at feeling far too giddy for my taste. But then I remembered everything from the previous night. Memories of Samantha, flashes of us kissing in the courtyard; it all tore through me in unison. I could see it as distinctly as it had happened: the two of us, palms touching, linked as we walked back to her single in Pearson Hall. I remember the second in which she closed the door and tossed her bag as if it didn't matter at all. She walked towards me, unbuttoning her floral black blouse as she went. Her clothes glided off her in single motions until she was just standing there modeling her lingerie for me.
I couldn't wait much longer so I ripped my jacket off and started removing my t-shirt and jeans. She stepped forward and pushed me onto the bed and slid my pants down my legs. I was so turned on I was almost nervous. I let her kiss me first and that was the sign that told me all I needed to know. We made out, our tongues smoothly running alongside each other and she tasted like skittles. I caressed her back and lightly scratched her, leaving thin pink trails near her spine. She was so damn sexy and I couldn't stop my hands from feeling her all over, absorbing every inch of her. She felt like warm sand as she slipped between my fingers. Before I could notice, she had us both completely naked and exposed.
She could tell I was excited and slowly kissed me from my mouth, to my neck, down my chest and further. I was swimming in a sea of gasps and tingling spurts of pleasure while I fingered her nipples and palmed her breasts. My fingertips gently combed though her hair as I massaged her scalp. She worked her tongue around my clit and sucked and tickled in ways no other woman had before. I was in a lapse of ecstasy as she ran her hands up and down my stomach. She was full of surprises that somehow didn't surprise me. Samantha Carter was everything I expected.
So then we fucked and I completely let go of my inhibitions. We 69'd and I flipped her over and pinned her arms and legs. Constricted, she was completely subject to my will. I kissed her strongly and she bit my tongue, so I moved to her breast and let my blood paint her nipple crimson. I tugged on her nipple ring with my teeth and she squirmed beneath me. I was fiercely motivated and I couldn't stop my body from reacting to her. She was like a drug that intoxicated me with every lick and every touch. I rolled her over onto me and began to slightly choke her. I arched her up and back so that she was sitting on my naval and I could grab her ass. But it wasn't enough. I wanted to be inside her and so I threw her down and grabbed her hips. With her ankles around my head I slipped my fingers in and with every thrust she grew moister. The bed was pounding against the wall and I didn't give a shit whether her neighbors could hear us. My fingers were going wild and with my mouth pressed to her I began exploring. I examined every section of her with my tongue and she shook and shuddered.
She made the softest ooh sound as she came. We laid there, my arm around her back, as she nestled against my chest until her breathing slowed. I was so serene and satisfied, that just as I was passing out she felt the desire to straddle me and lean forward until she was nibbling on my neck. I can guarantee that after that I was no longer tired. I should have known better; one round wasn't going to be enough for Samantha. She wanted to experience it all; the tenderness alongside the rough and dirty. Who was I to deny her that?
Eventually she grew exhausted and fell asleep while I stroked her with the backs of my fingers. I stayed like that for an hour or so just thinking about what had taken place. It really had happened; Samantha and I had just made love for the first time. It was amazing and somehow we had known how to please one another without needing to say anything. There was something about her that just drove me wild. Once I was sure she was asleep, I discreetly crawled from her bed and dressed in the moonlight. I'm not quite sure why I left, but for whatever reason, I didn't want to wake up there in the morning.
As I walked back to my house I was almost jogging from all of my excitement. I brushed my teeth with a smile and curled up in my loft with all seven of my pillows, my audience of stuffed animals and my huge comforter. It had been an unforgettable night. I fell asleep thinking of one thing only: Samantha. And the next morning as I awoke I realized my thoughts had not strayed. She was always on my mind after that night and I wasn't bothered in the least.
Bu nutbuster
Nonetheless, I instantly envisioned her naked and how warm and smooth she would feel and oh, how desperately I wanted to grab that ass! But then, as she finally walked past, I saw her face. The shadows that hung from her choppy bangs could not disrupt her incontestable beauty. She was gorgeous in the most unforced way possible. Her eyes were slightly sunken, but not in a drugged out I need to go to rehab way. More so, they looked as if they were accented by bruises and I couldn't imagine anything sexier. It was in that moment that I knew I would one day tie her down and we'd bite and bleed and fuck.
I recall thinking up some random poem in those following minutes, something like, "I need to hurt in order to scream, so punish me and meet my needs. Feed me pain while we fuck. Bring me down to pull me up." It was a little rusty, but definitely captured what I was thinking at the time.
She then became my obsession, or perhaps, the object of my private stalking. I searched for her wherever I went and on a few occasions I'd find her sitting in a lounge or reading some archaic book. It was then I began to notice how much attention she actually drew to herself and I was further shocked to see that she never acknowledged it. It was as if she was alone in the world, merely meandering through sceneries without ever appreciating them. I think I found her lack of care for anything most attractive.
Aw fuck. I can see my pathetic face now so intent on pursuing her, searching through her with my eyes. I wanted so desperately to know every part of her. What was it she listened to as she idly paced the corridors? What words resonated in her head as she read such peculiar books in the back corner of the library? But most of all, I wanted to know what she was thinking. She always seemed such a distractible mess, as if she wanted no part of this world, but instead was completely content in a place I've never known.
So this pattern of searching and staring continued for a few months until one Thursday night in March something sensational happened. I had been carelessly drunk, rummaging through some papers some dick left on the bench where I was sitting, when all of a sudden my heart bounded fiercely against my ribs. The night air was stale and it burned my throat as I half choked on my spit. I was beginning to freak out, and I knew from the uncanny silence that something strange was waiting to unfold. And that was when it happened.
Samantha Carter was stumbling, struggling to carry a bag of books and some I assume she is heavily intoxicated, I was drink just across the court. I began to shake and in my drunken confidence I did something I'd never intended: I ditched my Crush and jumped, well, tried to rise quickly, to my feet. Before I could interpret what my body was doing I was halfway to her. In the few seconds I spent traveling forth my mind was plundered by maddening thoughts: "What was I doing!? What was I going to say; what if I freaked her out?" But then, as if I knew precisely what she was thinking, I joined her side and retrieved a few of her books that had just smashed to the ground.
Here, I've got them. What have you been reading, you must have had a lot of work, I spoke, my voice crackling like a hot coal. I was still dumbfounded by what had just occurred, but I knew that I was too far in now to just hand them back and leave. She responded with a sigh and I wasn't a bit surprised. I almost expected she would find words a waste. There emanated from her some strange aura of ocean air and a self-assured coolness that I was immediately fond of. As if transfixed by some higher power I raised my eyes to her for the first time and I knew that this was the perfect moment.
I cannot recall the pang of her books as they slumped out of my hand and on to the ground again. I cannot recall exactly where we stood or if it there was a breeze caressing us as I turned to face her. All I can remember is that somehow, shy, outcast me was at that instant enflamed by passion and an unfamiliar courage. As I leaned forward and smoothly slid my arm around her my insides were squirming on a molecular level. I could not believe what was happening, and it was then that I stroked her cheek, tilted her head and kissed her once, a gentle tap. Her lips were like plush pillows that ignited so many sensations as they met mine. I was enveloped by a sea of shock and exhilaration and lust.
That was before I realized that she, in her unyielding simple manner, had not hesitated. There was no pause; she did not force herself from me as I crept closer. Instead, she willingly accepted my offer and kissed me back. What the hell did this mean? I was so unsure of my actions. Did she regret what had just taken place? Fuck it I thought- I had tasted her once and I'd never known anything as wonderful. It was because of this I knew I had to do it again, and so I did. That night we made out under a crumbling sky city of stars, emblazed by our passion, like flaming trees etched across the horizon. And that was all it took. From that moment on Samantha Carter was figuratively was everything?
The next morning I awoke in my ridiculously comfy bed, I had a memory foam mattress pad, amused at feeling far too giddy for my taste. But then I remembered everything from the previous night. Memories of Samantha, flashes of us kissing in the courtyard; it all tore through me in unison. I could see it as distinctly as it had happened: the two of us, palms touching, linked as we walked back to her single in Pearson Hall. I remember the second in which she closed the door and tossed her bag as if it didn't matter at all. She walked towards me, unbuttoning her floral black blouse as she went. Her clothes glided off her in single motions until she was just standing there modeling her lingerie for me.
I couldn't wait much longer so I ripped my jacket off and started removing my t-shirt and jeans. She stepped forward and pushed me onto the bed and slid my pants down my legs. I was so turned on I was almost nervous. I let her kiss me first and that was the sign that told me all I needed to know. We made out, our tongues smoothly running alongside each other and she tasted like skittles. I caressed her back and lightly scratched her, leaving thin pink trails near her spine. She was so damn sexy and I couldn't stop my hands from feeling her all over, absorbing every inch of her. She felt like warm sand as she slipped between my fingers. Before I could notice, she had us both completely naked and exposed.
She could tell I was excited and slowly kissed me from my mouth, to my neck, down my chest and further. I was swimming in a sea of gasps and tingling spurts of pleasure while I fingered her nipples and palmed her breasts. My fingertips gently combed though her hair as I massaged her scalp. She worked her tongue around my clit and sucked and tickled in ways no other woman had before. I was in a lapse of ecstasy as she ran her hands up and down my stomach. She was full of surprises that somehow didn't surprise me. Samantha Carter was everything I expected.
So then we fucked and I completely let go of my inhibitions. We 69'd and I flipped her over and pinned her arms and legs. Constricted, she was completely subject to my will. I kissed her strongly and she bit my tongue, so I moved to her breast and let my blood paint her nipple crimson. I tugged on her nipple ring with my teeth and she squirmed beneath me. I was fiercely motivated and I couldn't stop my body from reacting to her. She was like a drug that intoxicated me with every lick and every touch. I rolled her over onto me and began to slightly choke her. I arched her up and back so that she was sitting on my naval and I could grab her ass. But it wasn't enough. I wanted to be inside her and so I threw her down and grabbed her hips. With her ankles around my head I slipped my fingers in and with every thrust she grew moister. The bed was pounding against the wall and I didn't give a shit whether her neighbors could hear us. My fingers were going wild and with my mouth pressed to her I began exploring. I examined every section of her with my tongue and she shook and shuddered.
She made the softest ooh sound as she came. We laid there, my arm around her back, as she nestled against my chest until her breathing slowed. I was so serene and satisfied, that just as I was passing out she felt the desire to straddle me and lean forward until she was nibbling on my neck. I can guarantee that after that I was no longer tired. I should have known better; one round wasn't going to be enough for Samantha. She wanted to experience it all; the tenderness alongside the rough and dirty. Who was I to deny her that?
Eventually she grew exhausted and fell asleep while I stroked her with the backs of my fingers. I stayed like that for an hour or so just thinking about what had taken place. It really had happened; Samantha and I had just made love for the first time. It was amazing and somehow we had known how to please one another without needing to say anything. There was something about her that just drove me wild. Once I was sure she was asleep, I discreetly crawled from her bed and dressed in the moonlight. I'm not quite sure why I left, but for whatever reason, I didn't want to wake up there in the morning.
As I walked back to my house I was almost jogging from all of my excitement. I brushed my teeth with a smile and curled up in my loft with all seven of my pillows, my audience of stuffed animals and my huge comforter. It had been an unforgettable night. I fell asleep thinking of one thing only: Samantha. And the next morning as I awoke I realized my thoughts had not strayed. She was always on my mind after that night and I wasn't bothered in the least.
Bu nutbuster
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