ridingwild:he had her right where she wanted to be and when his rhythms hit her sweet spot over an
ridingwild: he had her right where she wanted to be and when his rhythms hit her sweet spot over and over again and his fist locked onto her flailing mane she could hear a mantra coming in growling spurts from her own warbling throat “don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop…” and it rose in tempo and voracity and volume until all vestiges of consonants were gone and as her peaks began to hit one after another in echoing wails of ambrosial eruption she still tried to form the words “don’t stop don’t stop……..” until the concept of words melted into saturated heaven -- source link