Thursday, July 12, 2012

Artistic Passions pt 3

Ben's been posting for a while now and he is gaining more confidence, and losing his nervousness.  This week's offering is a little hotter than the last couple.  A litle more graphic, a little more biting, scratching, but still the same artistic passion.  Leave him a message, encourage him, let him know what you think of his writing!

Artistic Passions Pt 3
Ben Hannigan

The couple slowly wandered over the beach, away from the clamour of the crowd; the blood; the police tape; towards home. They  stared out at the clouds appearing in the sky as if waking up with the world for the drudge of nine to five life. The lovers' hands entwined, ink and paint stained skin,  the casual touch of two people completely content with the world.

“You Know,” murmured the mousy haired girl, “we never did find my tights when we left for our meal.  Which was very romantic by the way,  a candlelit dinner for breakfast is like something from a film.”
“Oh, any ideas where those went? So does that mean you aren’t wearing any?” The young author replied with raised eyebrow.

“Why don’t you find out.” She giggled and grabbed her partner by the hair, kissing  him soundly, before bounding off at speed, daring him to chase her.  He responded with a gasp before chasing hungrily.
Barefooted the two lovers chased each other over sand,  grass, and over surf as they returned to the studio. It’s dark inside and as they reach the door they have caught each other, fumbling for the key becomes fumbling of a far raunchier sort as they stumble connected into the room and kick the door shut before attacking each other.

The usually pink tighted temptress was teasing him slowly, languidly stretching as she undid her skirt and let it fall; leaving her in a leather jacket and bare thighs that were usually covered by the tights that defined her. Her bra hit the floor followed by a shirt he recognised as his as she pounced on her target unzipping his hoody and attacking the bare chest beneath with tongue and nail.
He almost mewled with need as his boots were kicked off and she slid his jeans down devouring his shaft, sucking, tasting, devouring him as if she is desperate for the last drop of water in the world. His hands leaving claw marks in the wall as he shook, before pulling her up for a deep hard kiss.

He grabs her arse kissing her roughly, working his knee between her thighs. As he did so she felt the pressure of his body opening up to him. His hands slipped under her jacket, teasing at her  nipples. Each stroke causing her to scream and yowl as his left hand begins slipping into her folds, pushing up and into her wetness, violently thrusting into her. The frantic nature of gyration of her hips causing her to bounce against him, up and down his fingers, quickly soaking him with her juices.

He’s pushed back against the wall, she’s licking, scratching, tasting every inch even tonguing his tight hole and fingering him. Her other hand furiously attacking her own zones, she’s moaning, grinding against him.

They fall together moaning, her knickers are off now in the rush; she’s just in the leather jacket mounting him raising and lowering, riding his shaft as he moans. He flips her; thrusting hard,  fast, and deep. Its  rough.  There’s swearing, filthy pillowtalk, both stroking each others holes.  But its loving, gentle, both hard and fast; sweet yet violent.

She lifts up holding his hand, biting down on his neck and moans; “mine” He reaffirms the same, biting hard and screaming her name as he bucks and tremors, shaking in her arms as they thrust and spasm together before curling up; content, kissing and cuddling, not moving more than to drag a cover across themselves.