The Plan - Incomplete

Written for my fiance on the occasion of our third anniversary. Comments welcomed. Obviously it's unfinished. The plot is this:
* Airport
* Fuck
* Get High
* Make Love
I'll post the final version after she get it.

I started out calling this story is “The Plan”. Upon reflection, I found that the title was not particularly appropriate. You see, the word “plan” implies a best guess. It means, “this is how things are supposed to go”. It is used in phrases like, “If all goes to plan...”, or “I need a Plan B”. But it doesn’t describe this story. What I’ve written here is exactly what I’m going to do to you. This is not “the plan”, so much as this is “exactly how I am going to fuck you”.

Exactly How I am Going To Fuck You.

It’s not a long ride from my house to YVR, usually...up 99 into Richmond, follow the signs. Canadian drivers are dipshits (“hosers” in the local parlance, I believe), but at least they know which lane is the passing lane. Usually. Today they are all driving too slowly. But perhaps I am just unusually antsy.

I’ve been unusually antsy all week as I’ve anticipated your arrival. We met almost three years ago, today. I remember meeting you at that bar---that lounge in the Indian place on High Street. I remember laughing, and smiling, looking into your eyes, brushing your hand with mine. I remember thinking “I should lean in and kiss her, because I think that’s the only way she’ll let me touch her boobs in this restaurant”. I remember following you to your car and thinking, “I am going to fuck her later”. It was funny, because I had never met a girl and taken her home, or followed her home, or slept with her before I got her phone number. But I knew that I’d be inside you that night. I knew it. I think you did to.

But I know exactly what’s going to happen this evening.

I know that I’ll meet you with your baggage. You have one large black rolling bag and a pink carry-on, and your purse. You’re wearing a black sweater, and black pants. Your black curly hair falling down your face, bouncing on your shoulders. Your brown eyes are sparkling behind your freckles as I ease one hand behind your back. I feel tensions release at my touch as you fall into my embrace and our lips meet. This is truly what it means to melt into somebody. I can feel your warmth, your passion in your kiss. As our tongues dance I know what a long trip it’s been. I can feel the middle seat, and the k** behind you, and the chatty housewife, and the sweaty fat man. And I can feel it drift away.

Your hand finds mine as we pull back onto the highway. It’s not a long ride from YVR to my place... Down 99 to the end, last exit before the States, but your naked body flashes constantly through my find. Images of your swollen pussy spread out before me punctuate every sentence.

Did-you-fly-through-rub-the-tip-of-my-cock-between-minneapolis-as-usual-your-swollen-labia-and-oh-right-you-flew-american-this-time-so-you-came-thrust-into-you-from-below-as-i-feel-your-through-chicago-or-dallas-pussy-juice-trickling-down-the-inside-of-my-thigh-well-im-so-glad-you’ve-sinking-your-teeth-into-my-shoulder-as-you-come-to-see-me.
I shift in my seat as my penis becomes fully erect, lodging itself painfully between my belt and my stomach. We’ve stopped talking as my hand slid down your armrest, innocently landing on the inside of your thigh. You close your eyes and your head falls gently against the head rest, then rolling smoothly to rest on your left shoulder. I slide my hand up your thigh feeling an increasing warmness emanating from its apex. Your eyes gently open and you smile, slightly, as my grip tightens. With my smallest finger, I trace up your pelvis, which makes you shudder, around your hips, and up your side which makes you shudder again, and blush. Our hands meet as I turn off of the highway.

Why is it that there are more traffic circles (“roundabouts”, the Euros say) within ten miles of my house than there are in the entire state of Texas, but nobody in this country understands the concept? This is the only thought in my mind that doesn’t involve your naked, writhing body...that doesn’t involve some appendage of mine in some orifice of yours, thrusting. My thoughts are completely blurred as I lift your bags out of the car and press the call button for the elevator.



I pull my tongue from your pussy and savor your scent. It is time for me to make love to you.

Your ankles rest on my shoulders as your soft white body displayed for me, your wide hips and large nipples begging for my touch. I gently stroke your left calf while holding my dick in my hand, running the tip of my cock along the length of your wet slit. Our eyes meet as I find your drooling hole with my member, teasing you as I move it between your inner labia in lazy circles around the entrance to your temple.

I must have you.

Easing my hips forward, I enter you with a long sigh.

I love the feeling of entering you when I’m stoned. Say what you want about weed, but there’s nothing like the feeling of making love when you’re high. I can feel the head of my penis pushing against your inner lips. There is just a moment of resistance as I slide forward...but just a moment. Your womanhood parts and accepts me, and I can feel your insides giving way to the welcomed intruder. I feel your inner labia against the corona of my penis as I push deeper into you, and at once the heat coming from your sex envelops me.

My body urges me forward, but I know the best has not yet come. A trillion nerve endings along the shaft of my penis send fireworks through my balls, around my anus, and up my spine into my brain. The sensation is a bit like running a feather up the underside of your arm, or the inside of your thigh, except everywhere, much tighter and much wetter. I can only imagine that you must feel the same way when I wrap my tongue around your clitoris. My hips meet yours...I can go no further...I can know you no deeper. Inside my skull, a million tiny, molten fingers reach into my throbbing brain, connecting my deepest thoughts and memories and desires to every part of my body, down my back, through my testicles, around the base of my glans and down to its tip, which is lodged firmly inside you. Every part of me, from the tips of my fingers, to the center of my brain, to the webbing of my toes is connected to every part of you through the conduit of my cock.

But the best part is slowly withdrawing my member, and experiencing the entire set of sensations in reverse. I can feel the nerve endings going dark...the relative coolness on my naked skin, exasperated by your wetness...and finally a void, an emptiness, the feeling of being without. As the head of my prick pulls free from your sex, strands of your essence form the last bridge of our lust. It feels like getting out of the shower too quickly, when you’ve woken up too early, on a morning in January that’s too cold. The only place in the world that you ever want to be is back inside that warm, wet sanctuary.

You are my woman...you have given yourself to me, and I have taken you. Nothing can keep me from knowing you, from feeling you, from being inside of you, from making love to you. You will bear my c***dren, and I will provide for you. We will know pleasure, and we will know pain, and we will know passion. Our lovemaking is liquid, like waves rolling in the sea, or trees responding to a gentle breeze. Our pace is measured. You know my body and I know yours. You shift your hips and moan, and I know I have hit your g spot. I know that I will make you cum, and I know that I will empty myself deep inside of you. I have claimed you, as you have claimed me.

Your breath is heavy, face and breasts...flushed. Nipples are erect, standing in the center of large, brown areola. Black curls are splayed across the pillow. You are an opus of lust and beauty and ecstasy laid out before me.

I lean forward, my lips finding yours. With my right arm I steady myself as I thrust, sliding easily in and out of your cunt, pulling you into me with my left arm behind your shoulders. Our tongues entwined, you run your fingers through my chest hair, and down my sides, ending on my hips where they encourage me ever deeper. I can taste your sweat on my kiss, coupled with the last vestiges my seed which you swallowed so hungrily just an hour ago, as we move together.

she cums.

You roll off of me collapsing on your back next to me, temporarily exhausted as we pause to take another hit from our pipe, drinking it deeply, letting ourselves be taken by the lust and the narcotic. You have cum several times, but I have not cum yet. That will change.

You exhale a cloud of smoke and, turning to me, you smile. Without a word you roll over and put your ass in the air, begging to be taken doggy style. I oblige, because I am nothing, if I am not a gentleman.

Standing behind you, I hold myself in my right hand, firmly grabbing your hip with my left. Your face is in a pillow, your black curly hair a mess, your soft sighs accompany a gentle tickle as you reach back to caress the underside of my balls. With your ass in the air, easing your legs apart exposes swollen, read labia, hanging shamelessly asunder, exposing their treasure, your innermost, to me, begging for entry. Using the crown of my rigid member, I caress your clitoris, rubbing my dick up and down the length of your canyon, teasing you while I spread your lubrication from the apex of your lips to your perineum, eliciting an anticipatory moan as I find your window.

“Please”, you say.

With one gentle motion I am inside of you to the hilt as a guttural moan passes from your mouth. I withdraw fully, and watch as the glistening head of my phallus parts your rosy lips, proceeding deeply into your weeping pussy. Your moans of pleasure are broken by a slight discomfort...I am not large, by any metric, but I have bottomed out inside of you. I can feel your cervix, the entrance to your womb.

some more fucking.

I can feel my orgasm building, deep inside of me. A numbness starts somewhere deep below my balls. A contraction sends a shiver through my testicles, into the base of my cock, and through its tip. I swell slightly, which makes me instantly more aware of your walls, caressing me, imploring me deeper, begging me to deposit my seed. Another spasm effects a building euphoria, with each stroke, sending waves of pleasure through my extremities. The numbness inside of me turns into a tingling, a gentle buzzing that works its way through the center of my penis. This is accompanied by a dull ache at the base of my shaft, which is always a result of our extended interludes. I spasm again, and the muscles in my stomach clench. My dick spasms, hard, and doesn’t relax..a rush of bl**d from the base of my balls to the tip of my cock e****ts my seed deep against your womb. Spurt after spurt douses the walls of pussy as all of my stomach muscles clench, my emissions pooling deep against your cervix. I empty myself into you.

Immediately I am dizzy, light headed. Spasming again, I slowly remove my spent member, our mixed fluids seeping from your swollen pussy. The world is turning as I collapse next to you, and fade out of consciousness, dying in your arms. Your face inches from mine, eye to eye, I see you, dying too.

“I love you,” you say.

I love you, too.
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Categories: Hardcore
Posted by benlonger
3 years ago    Views: 105
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