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The Secret Garden

In order for me to come anywhere near an orgasm, I must think of you.

The rhythm of your tongue against my secret garden sends chills through my body. I quiver and shake with each teasing flick. Swells of pleasure surround me with exploding sensations, and yes I do want you to stop so you can start over, and over again. The slightest thought of you touching me, makes me slippery wet and squirm in my seat. I sit straight up with the seam of my panties pushing against my pleasure button and rock back and forth. I try to simulate your exotic movements. My stomach aches because I cannot release the tension that has built up inside me. My breath quickens and I moan out loud at the thought of your manhood getting closer to my garden. I feel it on my thighs, I crave for you to enter me, and instead you tease me. Gently rubbing and probing, until all of my juices caress your harden muscle. I buck and raise up to meet you, begging to enter me and you deny me the right to experience the pleasure of your member. Anxiously I shake, beg, moan, and whimper. You roll me over and pull me on my knees, my arms support us against the wall; my thighs are open and ready. Entering from behind, slowly at first, and I tell you to give me more and harder, you continue to tease me. I desperately need you inside me. You feel the walls of my garden grower closer, and tighter around you. The throbbing between my thighs gets stronger and I gasp for air from the fullness of you. Your hands cup my breast and you pull me closer; thrusting harder and harder until you can no longer contain the urge to release your milk into me. My garden tightens, squeezing you, sending pluses of sweet nectar. Our bodies tingle from the satisfaction we released to each other. We take a few moments to caress and kiss each other expressing our pleasure. Our kiss intensifies and we again become swollen with excitement.

End of Story