Falling for My Dirty Uncle

And, fuck me, for a virgin girl she knows exactly how to handle a man’s cock. In fact, she’s better than all other women I’ve ever been with. None of them would be able to compete with the sheer force of nature that Ashley is. Her body is all made of fury, and her mind is like something that can’t be bent; these two things combine into something so perfect it almost hurts to think about. Wondering what that something is? Easy: it’s mind-blowing sex.

Riding me hard, she drives herself to the edge and then jumps off it without looking back, her inner walls closing in around my cock. She moans and then screams, her voice quivering as she comes and stops moving all together, her knees replacing her feet by the side of my thighs.

Still with my cock inside her pussy, I take the chance to roll to the side; still on the throes of pleasure, she doesn’t even resist. She simply follows the movement of my body and lies down against the mattress. Now on top of her, her legs laced around my waist, I place one hand on her face and look straight into her eyes as I start to thrust.

I do it slow and gently, wanting to enjoy the moment, needing it to last forever. One thing I can tell you: I wouldn’t mind being frozen into this moment for all of eternity. Some moments are like that; they aren’t to be rushed, and you know they’re going to leave a mark on you for the rest of your life.

And this is one of these moments.

Thrusting while I look into her beautiful eyes, I brush my lips against hers and surrender to the sweet embrace of desire. More than just lust, there’s a deep connection that we’ve forgot, something so strong that I don’t know if we can break it, even if we try to.

“It’s so good… being here with you,” she whispers, an expression of happiness taking over her face. Stroking her cheek with my hand, I smile as her words reach me.

“It is… it’s perfect,” I reply, once again leaning in to kiss her.

We keep on fucking at a gentle rhythm for God knows long, time losing all meaning around us. There’s no rush, there’s no pressure to get things done; we’re simply enjoying the present moment, embracing it for all it’s worth.

And that’s all it takes.

My slow deep thrusts inside Ashley’s tight pussy are enough to make my whole body tense up, and it doesn’t take long for my cock to start throbbing against her inner walls. Holding my breath, I make an effort not to cum, needing her to come first.

Lucky for me, we’re so in sync that, the moment my cock starts to pulse, Ashley is taken by an orgasm. Dragging her fingernails across my back, hard enough to draw blood, she then buries them deep on the flesh over my shoulders and moans against my ear, her body twitching as if she’s having a seizure.

The sound of her voice against my ear is enough. My cock pulses even harder and, no longer holding my breath, I simply submit to my body’s needs. I feel my seed burning its way up my shaft, and then I start gushing my whole load inside Ashley’s pussy. Not moving as I come, I let her moan against my ear as she lives through her orgasm, both our souls dancing together even though our bodies are frozen in place.

Only when my cock finally stops spurting all of my cum, do I allow myself to slide it out from her pussy. Rolling to the side, I simply collapse by her side, looking up at the ceiling as I try to catch my breath. I smile to myself as I realize that there’s probably a hidden camera somewhere in the ceiling, and that what we just did has been recorded as well. I must remember to ask her for a copy. What? It’s kind of exhilarating to see Ashley and I on the screen, so what? Don’t judge, lest you be judged. Or something like that.

Allowing my left hand to slide down over the bedsheets, I go looking for her hand. Finding it, I lace my fingers on hers.

“Thank you,” I find myself saying, my voice just a whisper.

“For what?” she asks me, turning around on the bed so that she can look at me. I turn around as well, and look into her eyes for a long moment, gathering her thoughts.

“For being you,” I reply, not knowing what else to say. As a reply, she simply smiles and squeezes my hand in hers.

I don’t even know why I said that. I’m not the kind of guy to go around saying romantic stuff, and I have no idea why I’m starting now. Sure, Ashley is definitely a special girl … but does that justify the way my heart skips a beat every time she enters the room? Or the way my cock becomes as hard as rock every time I glance at her body?

All I know is that, ever since I met Ashley, I’ve been dreaming of her every night.

If that’s a good thing or a bad one, I have no idea.

Washington Beat

Distracted-In-Chief?

From the desk of Margie Preston – the political reporter with the heart of gold

Could the future First Lady of America be a clear and present danger to the national security of the United States?

That’s the line of reasoning and thinking being put out by Speaker of the House Bob Walker’s office today. Their argument?

“The way that Ms. Draper as the fiancée to the President of the United States is affecting him, it’s clear that she is affecting his judgment and ability to make decisions,” a spokesman for the office commented when contacted.

“Just the other day, the President of the United States rushed out from his presidential limousine and onto a Washington DC street to enter into an altercation with a mugger. This mugger was carrying a knife. Can you imagine the Constitutional crisis that would have occurred if the President were to have gotten stabbed? Would a simple assault and possible rape have turned into an assassination of the President of the United States?” The spokesman went on to say.

Let me just pause for a moment there to tell you that in my personal life I do not like Bob Walker. His office is going on the record to say that some kinds of crimes like rape are less of an issue than other kinds such as the President of the United States getting stabbed. It’s as if one form of crime is acceptable, but for the nature of his argument, the other kind of crime is not if it involves stabbing the President. I get the President is important, but so is the life of every single female in the United States.

But once you get past all the icky contemptuous sneering that's been coming out of the Bob Walker camp, you see that there is a kernel of truth is what’s being said.