Sunday, 17 June 2012

Trace

I look at my holiday tan. It looks good. Observing the tan lines on my breasts, I notice a bruise.

Teeth marks to be exact. Around my left nipple.

I reach for the baby oil, which I customarily use to keep my skin as smooth as it is, and leisurely apply the protective layer over the delicate aureola, savouring every moment of the tingling sensation and the memory it brings.

His lips closing around my nipples hungrily, me: capriciously dipping tips of my breasts into his mouth while riding his cock.

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