Sex du Juor: The Office - Sex Stories

Sex du Juor: The Office

... that I do not even think or reason to stir or blink an eye open. I am frozen still and static with my eyes shut and sealed up. Arghhhhh! I don’t even know where I am right now and what I am doing here. Unluckily and sadly, the never-ending and sweetest orgasm of mine comes to its closing part and phase, prompting me to tour back to reality and stir and shake myself up to aliveness. Stian is still thumping his joystick with a piercing and pleasant-sounding pound and bang into me, panting out greatly and jadedly as he does so. My goodness! He doesn’t ever lay down his arms to the sex pastime and exploit, does he? That is not what it seems to me. Down my thighs and legs themselves, his semen plummets and trickles from where he had deposited and sowed it—in my very own womb that is. It slithers leisurely and at a snail's slowest pace until it makes me to shudder and judder unemotionally and frigidly. Is it standard and normal of him to have such a high and excessive tempo and pace of sperms shot out of his Willy during our fuck time? Is it? Shit. Stian’s sperm spilling out velocity and rapidity into me is certainly going to bewilder and bamboozle me. He just generates too much semen and male gamete all in all. It is too much of it; and I don’t think that I can put up with it anymore. Nonetheless, he has me alter and change my positioning so as to fuck and bash me in another approach and manner. I am exhausted already. And I need some abundant time to relax and have a break. I ...

... cannot reject or snub against having sex with him any longer than we now have already. He is the master; he is at all times the overlord; and I am here to serve and slave him without any form of protestation or complaints. It is true—sex is superior and tip-top rate; but painstakingly wearing and wearisome on either hand too. Stian has me lounge down flat on the mammoth table itself. My God! He is still going to take me from behind. And it is quite hurting and pleasurable to some great extent. Sex…sex…sex. It is what is on my mind right this moment. I need and desire and crave more sex and sex…even though I am a great lot deal bushed-in and dead beat. All of a sudden and without warning, he is inside of me again, promptly filling and loading me with his valuable and sweetly cum and jism. My goodness! I think that I am dying. Am I truly? Faster and more faster, he pounds and sledge hammers into me, stocking up and supplying me with too much pleasure and sweetness, and making me open my mouth wide ajar in this intense darkness so as to whimper and moan out mutely. When I sob and howl out the more noisy and piercing, he crooks himself down toward me, pressing himself against my back to be precise, and he smacks and raps his powerfully-built thighs on my ass all the more powerful and stronger and ferociously fast—and I speedily enter into another immeasurable spasm of gratifying and satisfying orgasm in no time. Goodness. It is all so sugary and wearisome, isn’t it? It without doubt ...