Fantasy

The fantasy of a woman is her sacred garden, watered by her lustful honey, and giving birth to the flowers of Her heart. A woman's fantasy is colorful and gentle, like the touch against her skin. A woman's fantasy is about strength, still, it's gentle... it is about hardness, still, it is so lovingly soft.
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The spirit of Christmas was already filling their heart.. it was the time of gentle smiles, tender hugs and lovely gifts. They were close to each other, closer than ever, and they missed no occasion to show their love to each other in the most intimate, most sensual ways. They both knew it will be a beautiful Christmas, full of tenderness and sex.She had no guilt, because Her heart was pure. She gave everything to Him... her love, her soul, her beautiful body. And He was grateful for the grace, holding Her gifts close to His heart. He never missed a chance to caress that She gave him, tending them like if it was the purest garden, the Eden itself, constantly watering Her flowers of pure love.The urges inside were limitless, consuming, overwhelming. The Girl, her breathing heavy with anticipation, wished nothing more than a touch. She wanted to feel the power the male body, the hard erection penetrating her, taking control over her, driving her to the peak over and over again, until the flame inside finally got soothed.Overwhelmed by pleasure, she rode his hard manhood, letting him penetrate her burning loins in full length. She went crazy as his hip smacked against her crotch, each trusts sent pulsating joy through her full body, making her nipples erect, turning her mind dizzy and her pussy flooding with her honey. It was pure rapture for her every time, and she loved him for it.Vanda has a small box full of memories... mementos of her past. Letters, her first pair of favorite stocking, and her beloved ankle-bracelet with colorful pearls. Her boyfriend, Thomas, seems to like this tiny memento, and feeling that his girlfriend in a gentle moment, she makes the moodiness go away.Blushing over her own lust, still waiting with wide-eyed excitement sat the Innocent. Her craving body trembling in anticipation, her loins burning with desires she didn't dare to name. She was ready, if afraid... still, when the moment came, and her body got penetrated by her lover, she let out a happy moan, and got consumed by her endless desires.It started as an innocent morning affair, spontaneous and delightfully aimless. It has happened without a reason, just for the sole pleasure itself, but maybe because of this very reason it was more delicious than ever. And though pleasuring the body was the aim, the main attractions were the feet, and the pleasure they caused.She loved the old castle, even if she was too young for it. Like a beautiful, pale ghost, she strode along the corridors, shy and humble, as the building itself. But as soon as she stepped through the doors to the castle gardens, she threw off her shyness, her chains, her inhibitions, to give herself to something more fitting to her youth!She felt lonely... she often felt that way. An old record hummed silent blues, that fitted well to her mood. That was her life... a long, melancholic wait between the moments of pleasure that she spent with the Man she loved. His touch on her silky skin, the throbbing manhood inside her made her forget her loneliness... until He left again, making the girl wait for the next time.Life was a pleasure for her... an endless rapture, a celebration of constant joy since they were together. They spent all their wake moments in the other's arms, kissing, licking, tasting their partners body, presenting each other with climax after climax.Love is like a sugar, sweet and addictive, maybe that's why she chose that name. She was addicted to pleasure, she lived on sensuality, she craved for sex all the time. Now, that she found them all, she was happy, content, and always willing for more... but as it always happens, the more she got, the more she wanted.The beautiful dancer was graceful like a swan, as she was pure like the first snow and naive like a newborn. But she was still burning with passion like any woman, craving for a touch, and ruled by tender emotions, irresistible feelings that kept her running into his arms, throwing her purity for the sweet sin of sex.
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Fling