27 June 2008

The Gift: Rise, Fall, & Rebirth of a Legend: Fresh

Upon walking in his house, Amina walked up, staring him in the face, stuck in a labyrinth of thoughts. Resentment reared its head, as the two began arguing, tossing vile words back and forth, accusing each other of all kinds of wrongdoing. Amina’s frustrations shot through the roof and she started hitting Fresh in the chest, crying violently, full of disappointment and hurt. “Why Fresh, why is this happening to me?” she quizzed, still crying and pounding him in his upper body. Words left Fresh’s mouth, but she was lost in her emotions, somewhere between love and hate, wanting to ride for her man because she loved him, but flustered with the situations she was in as a result of his activities. Exhausted from her emotionally charged rant, Amina fell into Fresh’s arms, needing comfort from her man. “Just tell me everything is going to be ok,” she begged, resting her head on his chest, needing him more than ever at that moment.

“Amina, my love, I know my lifestyle has caused you problems, issues that you don’t deserve and issues I never wanted you to have to deal with, but I am officially out of the game and we can move on with our life together.” Amina gazed in her man’s eyes, listening closely to his words, wanting to trust in him and have faith, but the fact that she was suspended from work and questioned by the police was too much for her, as she broke their embrace, cursing him out again. Fresh walked away, giving her some space to voice her thoughts, but she rushed him and grabbed his arm, asking, “What are you just going to run out on me?” looking into his eyes, trying to read his mind. She gasped, as Fresh planted a deep kiss on her, mingling his tongue with hers, pulling her close to his body. Her mind said no, but her nipples became erect, her womanhood instantly got moist from his touch, and she wanted Fresh inside of her immediately.

They raced to get their clothes off, kissing, touching and moving towards the bedroom, only to fall over pant legs and each other. Giggling, they rolled around on the floor, still in the moment, as Fresh planted warm kisses all over Amina’s breasts, savoring each nipple for a moment, taking her to ecstasy with his immaculate foreplay. Fresh savored every inch of her body, kissing her from her forehead to her feet and everywhere in between. Loud moans escaped her lips, as Fresh’s tongue entered her wet folds, massaging her clitoris, as she bucked and grinded against his face, enjoying his oral game. Once Fresh felt her body trembling, he knew she was ready to climax and he gave her the treatment, inserting a finger into her wetness, while tongue kissing her throbbing clit, sending her to euphoria. Amina’s legs had a mind of their own, as they trembled in mid air, while Fresh kissed her stomach, flicking his tongue over her belly button ring.

“Lay on your back,” she purred, pushing him over, as she crawled on top of her man, returning the favor, swallowing his enlarged member, working feverishly to please him. Amina used her frustration as a motivation, sucking him off like a woman possessed. Fresh’s moans and grunts were more of an inspiration and she continued, until he grabbed her, flipping her over and penetrating her from the back. Sliding into her treasure, Fresh began pounding her insides, taking some of his frustrations out on the pussy, which was no problem for Amina, as she met him stroke for stroke, mixing pleasure with pain, as he spanked her, causing the dominatrix in her to emerge. Between moans, she ordered Fresh to stroke her harder and he did, grabbing a handful of her hair and wrapping it around his fist, as he long stroked her from behind. Thunder and lighting added extra ambiance, as Fresh’s strokes were in tune with the thunderclaps. A few calls to the Creator, Fresh’s name, and several curse words let him know those power strokes were well placed, but Amina wanted more, laying on the floor flat on her stomach, pulling Fresh down on her back, still sliding in and out of her dripping pussy.

Fresh.You.Are.Killing.The.Pussy.Don’t.Stop.Harder.More.Cumming.Now.Now.Cum.m.ing. Amina let out a powerful growl, as her body caught the trembles all over again, courtesy of another orgasm. Fresh was still in the mood, so he turned Amina over, putting her legs behind his neck, dipping into her, going in circles, mixed with a few hard strikes for good measure. Amina could feel Fresh’s organ pulsating wildly, meaning he was ready to climax, so she squeezed her vaginal muscles on his organ, drawing the orgasm out of him, as they climaxed together, falling out in the middle of the living room. Covered in sweat and smelling of sex, Amina still mustered up the nerve to tell Fresh, “You still get on my damn nerves,” lying on his chest. Staring at the ceiling, Fresh replied, saying, “Yeah whatever,” glad they were talking without an argument. The two wrestled around for a few moments, talking sh*t and cracking jokes, but Amina stopped, feeling something poking her lower body. “Fresh, what is that?” she seductively quizzed, staring at his sex organ standing at full attention, ready to report to duty. Pulling his woman on top of him, he told her, “Check for yourself,” positioning himself inside of her from the bottom for some more lovemaking. The two fell asleep, wrapped around each other, but not before Amina thanked him for the evil sex, kissing him on his cheek and hugging him tightly, never wanting to let go.

2 comments:

Na-Na said...

That was the shit!!!!!

iLLypsis said...

#3
MY name is Amina....

#4 your taste in music is FLAWLESSSSSS
old school hip hop, with the good new stuff and.....
yeah. u and all of this gets 5 stars. I'm so serious.

Jetsetter. I defy Time Zones.