Paragon Past Paraphernalia

VI. An Artist in Selfabuse

:: (1)::
The few flimsy garments she still had on
were unbuttoned and hanging away
from her beautiful body, her hairpins was gone
and my knees went wobbly like potters clay.
Both of her legs were wrapped around
the arms of my fathers favourite chair.
One hand was buried in her hairy mound
and the other was stroking her bosom with care.
As my heart was beating and my eyes got wide
she pressed three of her fingers into her minge
and started rotating them slowly inside
as both of her nipples started to cringe.
The other hand was now fondling her rump
as her slender hips slowly started to pump.

::(2)::
She had me shook, I'll give her that credit.
I watched her jerk off as from within a dream.
The way she shut her eyes clearly said it
was getting so good she wanted to scream.
When it was obvious her orgasm drew near
she force-fed two of her fingers up her ass.
I almost choked as I saw them disappear.
Then she came her breathing deep and harsh.
As she went limp, I dared not stay there anymore
so I turned carefully to make my retreat
but I stumbled in the drapers framing the door
and fell flat on my back, my head between her feet.
Smiling down at me the only thing she said
was:"Young man, shouldn't you have been in bed."

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