Foam Latex Prosthetics

The loneliness of the night

The loneliness of the night is not something imagined. Wake up naked and alone on the bed. The sun filtering in the window warms my thighs. Or maybe the heat is retained. I remember
strong arms and big hands gripping my waist. I remember a hard mouth and a voracious mouth biting mine.
I see some empty black eyes looking at me in that restaurant looks and swagger.
I see a smile and a face expressive without days of shaving. A deep voice and intense stare is enough for my companions disappear. Now I am interested only your skin.
I remember kissing her neck and fondling her breast. And as his fingers buried in my hair cradling my groaning. I forgot his words and attitudes. But I remember the hair announcing his hard member. I remember riding his anxious move runaway pelvis. I can still hear their cries echoing in my heart as I recall my sharp nails digging into his back. Lone
in bed, slid my fingers over his lips and taste the salt in your body.
The loneliness of the night is not something imagined.