Can you feel all this energy?
Like I was made for you
Our verves interweaving, binding us as one
I need you to seize me, consume me, and reawaken me with your essence.
You’ve possessed me, Bathe yourself in my desire.
Take it, I’m all yours.


Bent over the kitchen counter, skirt ruched around my hips you peel my satin knickers from my sopping cunt.
 “I need to take your temperature. The probe will slip into your meat and let me know if you are ready.”
You spread my legs; teasing my clit with the head of your leaking cock. You find my entrance and nestle yourself there but you do not enter yet.
You just wait and every time I try to push back, to take you into my hungry pussy you slap my butt till it’s rosy and tears glisten my cheeks.

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My Fuck Me Friday is a little different this week. It has risen from a conversation I had with the lovely Mina of At Longings End about men in suits. I love Mina’s blog so make sure you check it out afterwards and don’t forget to go support all the other Fuck Me Friday writers via the link at the bottom of the page to the beautiful Aisling Weaver’s site. 
Below is only my side of the conversation as that is all I have licence to publish, but you know, I think it’ll be enough ;)

Men in suits…yum! Slowly taking their ties off, unbuttoning their shirts, belts *sigh*
And then of course those ties and belts have use in the bedroom too
And when they unzip those suit pants…

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The dildo fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
“I suck at this!” I exploded.
He casually picked it up and walked to the bathroom to wash it off.
When he came back into the room he chuckled at my vexation and held out the dildo to me.
With only a groan of frustration I rolled and pushed back onto all fours.

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There had been a definite beat to it. A music to back up the sound of my voice and his in a duet of passion.
A symphony had been in the room with us, filling our ears as his hard thrusts had pressed my head to the bed head causing my neck to be at a weird angle. Continue reading


“What you doing?” he asked walking into the kitchen.
“Whipping the cream for the cake” she replied frustrated as his hands gripped her waist playfully pressing their bodies together.
“I see” he breathed against her hair.
“Except I suck at it” she admitted letting the bowl clutter to the bench, “the cream isn’t thickening.”

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“You look beautiful”
I looked at his reflection in the mirror as I straightened the flowing skirt of my wedding dress.
“You shouldn’t be here” I mumbled as I assessed the sit of the gown.
He shrugged and came closer.
“Well what do you think?” I finally asked turning to face him

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