The Gyrator The Gravel And I

I look up at the woman I have wanted for so long. She is the perfection I strive for. My obsession with her arse is only matched by my love for her. Her act is bountiful in its ability to subdue my sanity and I am enthralled by the rapturous animation of her sex.

I sigh.

My erection tries to pierce the confines of my trousers. She knows what I do when I shuffle uncontrollably like this. I see the corners of her lips reach sky as she turns and bends her soft bottom towards me. She is inches from my nose. I am still, leaning forward. I cannot breathe. I want her fragrance in me. I am salivating like Pavlov's dog. All the signs of an exquisite meal lie before me, but it is one I will not taste. This is her deception.

Her pearlescent form is at one with the pole. Her debauched gyrating slows as she crawls into my personal space. She is the warranted invader.

You look upset, baby. What's wrong? She speaks all coy and come hither.

She is at the edge of the stage, her hands grip the precipice and I cannot speak. I can't even tremble. I lean forward and look into the distance to see her shapely heiny reaching skyward.

I manage an, I'm f-f-fine and she giggles.

I sink back into my chair as she crawls back and effortlessly stands erect. She lets out her little breasts; her nipples look strong and succulent.

She turns slowly, looking at me with yearning eyes and I feel exalted. Her hands glide to the pole and softly descend along its surface. She is at ninety degrees and I sit one hundred and eighty.

She reaches back up and begins to jiggle her buttocks. Her thick juicy buttocks, the ones with her yellow G-string engulfed by her plump cheeks. I'm smiling, my heart is racing as she grabs her right cheek and pulls slightly, revealing only so little as to keep my body begging. Death could be soon and she wouldn't have shown me her sex.

She drops to the floor pressing her head to the cold stage and looking back at me. Those eyes again. I want to grab her. I want to be inside her. I want to fill her up with my come.

Her legs spread wide and she begins to play with her pussy through the almost non-existent fabric. The thin lining of her G-string rides up between her labia. Her gorgeous plump lips gnaw on the string. I want to move it. I want to tear it off with my teeth, savage and brutal.

I pay her more money and ask that she remove her G-string. She laughs, accepting my offer.

She begins to remove her G-string, revealing her perfect arsehole. She stops immediately. And so do I.

She begins to shake her bottom. The movement only serves to hypnotize, as once again I become her thrall and even more deeply so. She becomes the snake and the charmer. I am just the gray stone somewhere in the background. She floats up in waves, her body glides. She is a figure skater with the power and elegance of Venus. I am not worthy and I make it true.

She reveals the glisten of her pussy. I want to bring her to orgasm as I embed my mouth amongst the soft flesh of her vagina, all preux and proper like you imagine a princess' would be.

Then it happens. I can't take the perpetual agony of her sex taunting me. She rips off the G-string. Tearing the fabric, letting her pussy stare triumphant. It grows inside me. She spreads her cheeks with both hands. I read an invitation that I cannot decline. I become the lion. Her, my obedient lioness. I mount her with a fury like the flames of the sun. I am inside. Her tunnel, all satin and lace, grips my cock and I try to move, but I am ferociously torn from my prize by a pack of wild beasts. Though, to my delight, the force is enough to erupt something within me. I am enthralled in ecstasy as I spray my thick load over my attackers; to which I am mercilessly beaten. Her pussy achieved its pleasuring purpose.

I smile triumphant as the gravel of the parking lot and I, become friends.