Of Time and Passion

“I’m so glad we aren’t dating anymore…”

“Why? Because time eventually forgets anyway.”

“No stupid. Because now you can really open up to me. You’re not aiming to impress me to get into my knickers. Fucking always complicates things. But now we can just be friends. And friends are frank with each other—no matter what. I quite fancy that.”

“Well, I quite fancy the fucking.”

“Ha, ha very funny.”

“No, for real, without the fucking women aren’t that interesting, particularly the pretty ones.”

“You don’t mean that!?”

“You’re right. The ugly ones are pretty boring too.”

“Oh my Lord! You’re a hopeless wanker.”

“Are you getting mad?”

“Yes, I’m getting mad, mad to find out you’re a misogynistic wanker.”

I kiss her forcibly on the mouth—and she responds with considered lust.

“I’m just teasing you. I just love the way you look when you’re mad.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate it.”

“Oh yes you do. You love to get hot…”

I eased out of her slit, sliding off her panties, and pressed the buttery silk to my eager full lips. Then I kissed and rubbed my face in the scented garment, while dabbing lightly at her plump red clitoris. Her teeth sank into me without warning, but equally eager to obtain my own meat, I rammed furiously her dripping tight cunt…