i love the smell of latex. there is something so sterile about the smell. it makes the act that much more enticing to me. i love watching him push his large hands into the gloves and pushing each finger more snug into each slot. i lay there with anticipation and a sense of “what’s next”. i hardly know what is in store for me. sometimes it is something similar to what i have experienced before and other times it is something that catches me completely off guard. all i know is i have that dying need for those gloved fingers to be shoved up inside of me and that is one thing that is a guarantee when the gloves go on. it means at least two of my orifices and maybe more will be violated with those slippery gloved digits.
i laid there waiting for what seems like a frozen moment. the snapping of the gloves, the rubbing of latex against latex as he gets the right fit. i know i am wet and i know my breathing is already growing ragged. as he fits his second skin he is putting on the persona of his sadistic and overpowering self. i won’t give him a fight today because i am starving for the attention he is about to bestow upon me. my eyes watch him meticulously finalize the “fit”, he walks towards the fuck bed, in the fuck room and he towers over me like a gloved beast that is about to make his crime with me.
there is no seduction to this union. the “foreplay” was me watching him glove up like a man kissing and groping his lover. we are beyond that and one hand covers my nose and mouth while the other pushes down my pink panties to find that hot wet spot. just before his hand closed down over my airways i can smell that scent of latex. my eyes close to savor it and for that split second that is what makes me nearly come as his fingers push inside of me to violate that sacred empty space. my body jerks, spasms, shudders and quakes to his actions. he starts to shift the covering hand to allow me to smell that latex more. he even makes a quick remark as he pushes my panties down and off me to allow my whorish legs to spread even further apart for his invasion.
one orgasm is never enough for him and when his hand frees my airways i gasp for breath as i feel myself coming under his touch. he shoves in three fingers into my mouth and instinctively i suck the tangy latex in my mouth and breathe in the scent. he presses down on my lower jaw to force my mouth open and this gesture sends me insane with an arching back and gushing cunt. is it the carnal way he handles me? is it the unlovely roughness when we collide? i think he reads my body and my mannerisms like a book. he performs and riddles my body with as many orgasms as he can extract from my body in every session. i always say he plays me like an instrument and he does. it is my writing about him that satisfies his ego and ensures that he is a great lover.
as i have told my darling Provocateur…
“artists perform when they are joined with another body. it is not about them…it is about the other. it is feeding the ego that they can make a body into a pile of clay when they are through.”
i may bark that “i need”, “i want”, “i starve”, “i hunger” but when you have someone that can touch you the way that E can…well you would then understand why i can be this way.
i speak of the mind fuck and yes i need those but i also need a body fuck just the same. i always want more and that will never change and that is the problem with addiction.
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