The Beauty of the Urgent Fuck

For all that John Brownstone is calm and collected most of the time, I get off on the rare moment when he’s impatient. That sense of urgency when he grabs my hips and pulls me closer — it’s hot.

Wanting me bad enough to nearly lose control. Forgetting himself in the moment.

There’s no slow sinking of cock into cunt. He doesn’t tantalize and tease. This is pure need. His need.

The urgent fuck is as sweet as the slow, sensual fuck. For different reasons.

Instead of savoring my body like a meal he never wants to stop tasting, he gobbles it down, desperate for more.

When he can’t even control his own moans of pleasure, throwing his head back against the pillow and crying out.

Knowing that he wants me so bad he can’t wait. That he needs to come so much that he won’t wait.

A drumbeat of need beats within him and I’m the only one who can satisfy it.

That’s the beauty of the urgent fuck.

Welcome to Masturbation Monday! I’m getting ready for nearly two weeks out of town, most of that in London for Eroticon, so pardon the short fuckery. Hopefully more will be inspired during our trip. Also, the image above is left over from a few we took for February.