Category: Cowgirl

The Coastal Path Encounter

The Scottish coast stretched out in wild, untamed beauty before Kiri and her friends, Emma and Morag. The three women had set out that morning along a rugged cliffside path, the wind tugging at their hair and the salty tang of the North Sea filling their lungs. Kiri, at 47, carried a few extra pounds that softened her frame, her large breasts swaying slightly beneath her loose-fitting sweater as she walked. She’d always been comfortable in her body, its curves, its heft, its appetites. Her sexuality was a well-worn path she’d traveled with confidence, her high sex drive a constant hum beneath the surface of her everyday life. Between her legs, her large pussy was a landscape of its own, prominent, crinkled inner lips darker than the surrounding skin, neatly trimmed pubic hair framing it like a crown. She knew it well, loved it fiercely, and today, as the sun climbed higher, she felt that familiar itch stirring.

Emma, wiry and sharp-tongued, led the trio, her short blonde hair whipping in the breeze. Morag, broader and quieter, trailed behind, her auburn curls bouncing with each step. They’d been friends for years, bonded by laughter and a shared irreverence for propriety. When Emma spotted a narrow trail veering off the main path toward a secluded cove, she didn’t hesitate. “Let’s get some sun on our bones,” she declared, and Kiri grinned, already imagining the cool sand against her skin.

The beach was a hidden gem, a crescent of pale sand framed by jagged cliffs and lapped by gentle waves. It was deserted, save for the gulls wheeling overhead. Without a word, the three women stripped off their clothes, tossing sweaters, jeans, and underwear into a haphazard pile. Kiri stood naked, her heavy breasts settling against her chest, nipples tightening in the crisp air. She ran a hand absently over her stomach, feeling the softness there, then let her fingers brush the coarse hair above her pussy, a private ritual of self-assurance. Morag stretched out in the middle, her freckled skin gleaming, while Emma flopped onto the sand on the right, facing the ocean. Kiri took the left, closest to where the beach curved toward the cliffs, and lay back, the sun warming her flesh.

For an hour, they basked in silence, the rhythmic crash of waves lulling them into a lazy haze. Kiri’s mind drifted, her body alive with the sensation of being bare under the sky. Her thoughts, as they often did, turned to sex, memories of past lovers, the weight of a man’s hands, the stretch of a cock inside her. She shifted slightly, feeling the sand shift beneath her ample hips, and let her legs part just enough to feel the breeze tease her inner thighs.

Then, a figure appeared.

He came from the left, walking along the shoreline toward them. Tall and slim, he carried the easy grace of someone older, perhaps in his mid to late fifties, his silver, grey hair catching the light. Kiri noticed him first, her eyes tracking him casually as he approached. He stopped about thirty feet away, near the water’s edge, and set down a small bag. Without a glance their way, he began to undress. Kiri propped herself on one elbow, intrigued. His shirt came off first, revealing a lean torso dusted with gray hair. Then his trousers, exposing long, sinewy legs. She watched, unhurried, until he stood in nothing but a pair of dark briefs. The bulge there was unmistakable, promising, substantial, and her pulse quickened.

When he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid the briefs down, Kiri’s breath caught. His cock sprang free, thick and long, hanging heavy between his thighs. It wasn’t erect, but its sheer size was impressive, a soft arc of flesh that swayed slightly as he moved. He glanced her way and smiled, a warm, knowing smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Kiri returned it, her gaze dropping back to his cock as she tried to gauge its potential. Eight inches? Nine? More when hard? She couldn’t be sure, but the thought sent a shiver through her.

He spread a towel on the sand and lay on his back, his head turned just enough to keep her in his peripheral vision. His cock draped across his left hip, away from her, its weight pulling it down against his skin. Kiri rolled onto her side, facing him fully, her left arm tucked beneath her head. Her right breast rested heavily against her chest, the nipple brushing the sand. She studied him, the faint lines of muscle in his thighs, the relaxed curve of his belly, and that magnificent cock, lolling there like an invitation. Her right leg bent slightly, raising her knee, and her hand drifted down her body. She let her fingers graze her pussy, tracing the thick, crinkled lips she knew so well. They were warm, already slick with the first stirrings of arousal.

At first, her touch was light, discreet, a slow circling of her clit that could’ve been mistaken for an idle scratch. But he noticed. His head tilted further toward her, and he rolled onto his right side, mirroring her position. His cock twitched, swelling faintly as blood began to rush into it. His hand moved down, long fingers wrapping around the shaft, and he started to stroke himself, slow and deliberate. Kiri’s breath hitched. She lifted her leg higher, parting her thighs, and slipped two fingers inside herself. The wetness there was immediate, her pussy yielding to her touch with a soft squelch. This wasn’t about a quick release, not yet. She wanted to be ready, lubricated and open, for what she knew was coming.

His cock grew steadily, thickening and lengthening as he worked it. The head emerged from its foreskin, glistening faintly in the sunlight. Kiri’s eyes locked on it, her fingers plunging deeper, curling against her inner walls. She imagined him inside her, stretching her wide, filling her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. When he was nearly fully erect, eight inches at least, maybe more, she couldn’t wait any longer. She pulled her hand free, her fingers glistening, and stood.

The sand shifted beneath her feet as she crossed the distance between them. She knelt beside him, her knees sinking into the towel, and let her gaze travel from his cock up his body to his face. His eyes were hazel, warm with amusement and desire. He opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to introduce himself, but Kiri pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. Names didn’t matter. She pushed him gently onto his back and leaned down, her breasts brushing his chest as she took his cock in her hand. It was heavy, warm, the skin velvet-smooth over its rigid core. She lowered her mouth to it, lips parting to take him in.

He tasted faintly of salt and musk, his thickness stretching her jaw as she sucked. Her tongue swirled around the head, teasing the slit, and he groaned softly. His hands found her, one threading into her hair, the other sliding between her thighs. His fingers, long and deft, stroked her pussy, parting her lips and slipping inside. She moaned around his cock, the vibration drawing another groan from him. He was fully hard now, a towering presence in her mouth, and she knew she needed him elsewhere.

Kiri pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his tip, and straddled him. She guided his cock to her entrance, the head nudging against her slick folds. Slowly, she sank down, feeling him stretch her inch by inch. It was exquisite, almost too much. He was the largest she’d ever had, his girth pressing against every nerve inside her, his length reaching deeper than anyone before. Her pussy clenched around him, adjusting to the fullness, and she gasped, her hands braced on his chest. She felt stuffed, gloriously so, her inner walls pulsing against him as she settled fully onto his hips.

She began to move, rocking slowly, savoring the drag of him inside her. Each motion sent a jolt through her, the pressure building low in her belly. Her breasts bounced with her rhythm, heavy and free, and she reached down with her right hand, fingers finding her clit. She rubbed it in tight circles, amplifying the sensation of his cock filling her. The combination was electric, his size stretching her, her fingers teasing her to the edge. She rode him like that for long minutes, the sun hot on her back, the sound of the waves blending with their breaths.

Her orgasm built gradually, a slow wave cresting higher with each thrust. When it hit, it was shattering. She cried out, her pussy clamping down on him, spasms rippling through her core. Her fingers pressed harder against her clit, drawing out the pleasure until she was trembling, breathless. He groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips, but he didn’t come, not yet.

Panting, Kiri slid off him, his cock slipping free with a wet sound. She shoved him off the towel, onto the sand, and got onto all fours, her knees sinking into the soft ground. Her breasts hung low, swaying as she arched her back, presenting herself. He didn’t hesitate. Kneeling behind her, he lined himself up and thrust in, burying himself to the hilt. The angle was different, deeper, sharper, and she moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the cliffs. Their bodies slapped together, a rhythmic, primal noise that drowned out the waves.

She reached back with one hand, fingers working her clit again, but as the pressure built, she let go, wanting to feel him alone. He pounded into her, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her back onto him. Her second orgasm came faster, harder, a tidal wave that crashed over her and kept going. She screamed, her voice raw, her pussy spasming around him as the pleasure stretched out, endless and consuming. When it finally began to ebb, she pulled away, his cock sliding free with a slick pop.

Kiri stood, legs shaky, and glanced around. Morag was nearby, one leg cocked up on a rock, her fingers buried in her own pussy as she watched. Their eyes met, and Morag grinned, a wicked, conspiratorial smile. Kiri returned it, then turned toward Emma, who was waiting a few feet away, her slim body taut with anticipation.

Without a word, Kiri lay back on the sand, and Emma climbed over her, positioning herself for a 69. Kiri’s tongue found Emma’s pussy, tight and tangy, while Emma’s mouth descended on Kiri’s still-throbbing folds. They devoured each other, tongues and lips working in tandem, the taste of salt and arousal mingling. In the background, Morag’s cries rose, sharp and needy, as she took her turn with the stranger. Kiri didn’t look, she didn’t need to. The sounds told her everything: Morag’s gasps, the slap of flesh, the stranger’s low grunts.

Kiri focused on Emma, on the slick heat against her tongue, the pressure of Emma’s mouth on her clit. They came together, a shared shudder that left them panting into each other’s thighs. When it was over, Kiri lay back, staring up at the sky, her body humming with satisfaction. The stranger, the beach, her friends, it was a moment of pure, unbridled freedom, etched into the wild Scottish coast.

March 29, 2025
Lynn & Louise – 02 – The Reunion

Reunited

Two weeks had passed since the dunes, and the memory of that afternoon still burned in my mind, Richard’s thick cock filling me, Louise’s hungry eyes, the salty air mingling with our gasps. We’d kept in touch on X, a private thread of flirty banter and Richard’s cheeky limericks, like, Three souls by the sea found their spark, in sand where desires disembark, with a wink and a grin, they’d soon meet again, for a night that would blaze in the dark. So here I was, mid-thirties, my rounded body hugged by a black dress that clung to my large breasts, stepping into a seaside restaurant. The date night was Richard’s idea a classy meal, then back to his hotel. Louise had agreed instantly, and I couldn’t say no.

The place was upscale, all soft lighting and polished wood, the murmur of conversation blending with the clink of cutlery. Richard stood as I approached, tall and slim, his late fifties softened by a tailored blazer, his silver hair catching the glow. “Lynn, you’re a vision,” he said, his voice smooth and warm, that naughty edge lurking beneath. He pulled out my chair, ever the gentleman, though I knew what hid behind his polish.

Louise arrived moments later, her tall, lean frame striking in a deep green dress, her small, shapely breasts subtly outlined. “Well, don’t we clean up nicely?” she teased, sliding into her seat beside Richard. He sat between us, a grin spreading as he poured wine.

“Only the best for my muses,” he said, raising his glass. “To nights worth writing about, A trio once wild by the shore, now dine with a hunger for more…” He trailed off, winking, and we laughed, clinking glasses. The meal unfolded with ease, succulent seafood, rich sauces, the kind of food that felt indulgent. But the real feast was the tension simmering between us. Richard’s knee brushed mine under the table, deliberate and slow, while Louise’s fingers grazed his arm as she leaned in to whisper something that made him chuckle darkly.

“You’re incorrigible,” I said, sipping my wine, feeling the heat rise in my chest.

“Guilty,” he replied, leaning closer. “But you love it. Both of you do.”

Louise smirked. “He’s not wrong. I’ve been thinking about that cove all week, your poetry wasn’t the only thing that stuck with me.”

The flirtation escalated with dessert, a shared chocolate torte that left us licking spoons and trading loaded glances. By the time Richard suggested we head to his hotel, “A hot tub awaits, ladies”, my pulse was racing, my dress feeling tighter than ever.

The Hotel Room

The hotel was a short walk, the night air cool against my flushed skin. Richard’s room was a suite, spacious and modern, with a private balcony where a steaming hot tub bubbled under string lights. “Make yourselves at home,” he said, shedding his blazer with that casual grace I remembered. Louise and I exchanged a look, a silent agreement, and kicked off our heels.

“Hot tub first?” Louise asked, already tugging at her dress. She stripped down to a black bra and panties, her slim body glowing in the soft light. I followed, peeling off my dress, my large breasts spilling free as I unhooked my bra, my neat pussy barely concealed by lace. Richard watched, his eyes dark with hunger, then pulled off his shirt and trousers, leaving his boxers. That thick, shaved cock pressed against the fabric, a promise we all recognized.

“No need for modesty,” he said, sliding the boxers down. It sprang free, heavy and bold, just as I remembered. He stepped into the hot tub, the water swirling around his lean frame, and beckoned us in. “Join me, muses.”

I hesitated, then shed the rest, my skin prickling as I sank into the heat. Louise did the same, her small breasts bobbing as she settled beside him. The water lapped at us, jets pulsing against my thighs, and Richard grinned. “Three bodies in steam reunite, a dance of the flesh in the night…” he murmured, his voice low.

“Keep going,” I teased, splashing him lightly. “You’re good at this.”

He laughed, pulling us closer, one arm around each of us. “Only because you inspire me.” His hands roamed, mine to my breast, squeezing gently, Louise’s to her hip, possessive. The water amplified every touch, slick and warm, and I felt my breath hitch.

Louise leaned in, kissing his neck, then me, her lips soft and daring. “We should make this a night to remember,” she whispered, and I nodded, my hand finding Richard’s cock beneath the water. It was already stiffening, thick and heavy in my grip.

“God, it feels even bigger like this,” I said, passing it to Louise. She took it eagerly, stroking slow.

“Like a damn rod,” she agreed, her fingers curling around it. “Look how it throbs.”

We played with him, hands sliding in unison, the water sloshing as he grew fully hard. “A scepter arises in haste, two hands give its glory a taste…” he groaned, half-laughing, and we silenced him with our mouths. I went first, ducking under the water to suck the tip, the heat and bubbles swirling around me as it swelled in my mouth. I surfaced, gasping, and Louise took her turn, her lips wrapping around him, then lower to his balls, sucking gently. We traded off, our mouths meeting along his length, tongues clashing in a wet, messy dance until he was rigid, pulsing, a marvel slick with water and spit.

The Ecstasy

Louise pulled back, water dripping from her chin. “Lynn, ride him. He’s begging for it.”

I straddled him, the hot tub’s edge supporting my knees as I guided that massive cock to my entrance. The water made it slick, but my tight pussy still stretched deliciously as I sank down, inch by thick inch, until he was buried deep. “Fuck,” I gasped, the fullness overwhelming, a sweet ache that pulsed with every jet against my skin. His hands gripped my breasts, kneading hard, fingers pinching my nipples as I rocked, the water splashing around us. My own fingers found my clit, rubbing fast, the pleasure sharp and electric. Then I caught Louise’s eye watching, one hand between her thighs, and the thrill spiked, knowing she saw me unravel. I came hard, my walls clenching tight, a scream tearing free as the orgasm ripped through me, amplified by the heat and her gaze.

Louise pushed me aside gently, claiming him next. She mounted him, her slim body rising and falling, water cascading off her small breasts as she rode. I watched, mesmerized, her moans sharp against the hum of the tub, her face contorted in bliss. Richard’s hands gripped her hips, guiding her, and he beckoned me with a grunt. “Lynn, here.”

I straddled his face, lowering until his tongue plunged into me, hot and relentless. The water lapped at my thighs as he licked, sucking my clit with a hunger that made my legs shake. Louise’s rhythm faltered, her cry piercing the air as she came, her body shuddering before she slid off, panting against the tub’s edge.

Richard didn’t pause. He lifted me off his face, maneuvering me onto all fours, my hands gripping the rim as water sloshed over us. He entered me from behind, that thick cock driving deep, the angle brutal and perfect. He fucked me hard, long thrusts that slapped against my arse, each one rattling my core. “A tempest of flesh in the steam…” he growled, mid-thrust, and I lost it, my pussy clamped down, milking him as I exploded, a raw, guttural scream escaping as the orgasm tore me apart. He grunted, pulling out, his cock pulsing as he sprayed my back with cum, hot and thick, mixing with the water dripping down my spine.

We collapsed, breathless, the tub’s jets still bubbling around us. Louise laughed softly, trailing a finger through the water. “Better than the dunes.”

Richard, spent, grinned. “A night in the foam, wild and free, a poem writ by you and me…” His voice was hoarse, but the spark in his eyes promised more verses, and more nights to come.

March 20, 2025
Lynn & Louise – 01 – Seal Watching

The Pub

The air in the pub buzzed with laughter and the clink of glasses, a warm hum of thirty voices mingling under the low wooden beams. It was a small seaside town, the kind where the salt lingered in the breeze, and tonight, it hosted an eclectic gathering of people who’d connected through #NSFW posts on X. About twenty-five women and fifteen men sprawled across tables littered with pint glasses and crisp packets. I sat near the center, my rounded frame tucked into a cushioned bench, acutely aware of my large breasts straining against my top. To my left was Richard, tall and slim, his late fifties showing in the silver at his temples but not in the spark of his eyes. He spoke with polished charm, every word measured yet laced with a naughty edge that made my pulse quicken. To his left sat Louise, late forties, tall and lean, her small, shapely breasts hinted at beneath a fitted blouse, her posture exuding quiet confidence.

The group discussion swirled around us, raunchy tales of X posts, debates about boundaries, the thrill of the taboo, but Richard, Louise, and I had carved out our own little world. “You’ve got a wicked mind, Lynn,” Richard said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned closer, his knee brushing mine under the table. “Those posts of yours leave little to the imagination.”

I grinned, heat creeping up my neck. “Takes one to know one, doesn’t it? Your captions are downright sinful, and those limericks you sneak in? Pure filth.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound, and leaned back. “A poet’s soul, guilty as charged. How about this one: There once was a lass with a flair, whose posts left us all in a stare, with curves so divine, she’d make hearts align, and leave naughty thoughts in the air.” His eyes twinkled as he recited it, aimed squarely at me.

Louise laughed, clapping lightly. “Oh, that’s brilliant, Richard. You’ve got her pegged. And that last photo you shared well, it’s a good thing this pub’s dimly lit, or we’d all see you blushing.”

Richard shifted, his thigh pressing more firmly against mine. “I’ll take that as a compliment from both you lovely ladies. Poetry’s my other vice, keeps the mind sharp and the tongue… nimble.” His gaze flicked between us, bold and unapologetic, and I felt a shiver of anticipation. The flirtation was electric, a dance of words and glances that made the crowded room fade away.

Needing a breather from the heat, I steered the conversation elsewhere. “Richard, you’re mad about wildlife, aren’t you? I’ve seen your posts almost as passionate as your verses.”

His face lit up, the naughty glint softening into enthusiasm. “Oh, absolutely. There’s something primal about it, don’t you think? The raw beauty of nature, it is poetry in motion.”

Louise leaned in, her eyes brightening. “I’m the same. Seals, especially, I could watch them for hours. They’re so graceful, yet wild.”

“Seals?” I said, catching her drift. “Perfect timing, we’re right by the coast. Do they come near here?”

Richard nodded, a conspiratorial grin spreading. “I know exactly where they are. Just a short walk, a little cove most miss. They bask there this time of year. I’ve even written about them, The seals by the shore weave a tale, of slick silver skin and a wail, in the surf they play free, a wild symphony, nature’s lust in each flip of their tail.”

Louise stood abruptly, her voice cutting through the din. “Right, everyone! Richard, Lynn, and I are off to find some seals. Anyone joining us?” Her tone was light, but her eyes locked on ours, daring us. The group murmured, some laughing, others shaking their heads, none took the bait. It was just us three.

As we wove toward the door, I caught Louise’s arm. “Was that invitation genuine, or…?” I let the question hang, my voice low.

She smirked, her expression vague. “Depends on what you’re hoping for, Lynn.” Her wink left me wondering, my stomach fluttering as we stepped into the cool night air.

The Dunes

The walk to the cove was brisk, the sea’s whisper growing louder as we descended a narrow path between dunes. We settled on a small patch of sand, shielded by grassy mounds, and there they were seals, their sleek bodies glistening in the sun. We sat entranced, the world shrinking to the rhythmic slap of waves and their lazy barks. Richard murmured, almost to himself, “In sunlight they gleam like wet stone, a chorus of life all their own…” His voice trailed off, lost in the sight.

After a few minutes, the seals slipped into the water, vanishing beneath the surface. Richard broke the spell. “They’ll be off feeding now. Won’t be back for a while.”

Louise stretched, her long limbs catching the light. “This is a perfect spot to sunbathe, don’t you think?” She glanced at us, a silent challenge in her nod. I nodded back, my heart pounding, and Richard grinned, already tugging at his shirt.

He stripped with casual ease, peeling off his clothes until he reached his boxers. Then, without hesitation, he slid them down, his large, thick cock springing free, freshly shaved, as I’d expected from his meticulous nature. It hung there, bold and unashamed, and he froze, suddenly sheepish as he glanced at us, still in our bras and knickers. “Sorry, ladies, I might’ve gone too far”

“No, no,” I cut in, my voice eager. “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. It’s… impressive.”

Louise nodded, her gaze lingering. “Very welcome, Richard. You’ve got a gorgeous body, don’t hide it.”

“Really, it’s fine,” I added, catching Louise’s eye, our words weaving together. “Accepted, absolutely.”

In sync, we shed our clothes. I felt the air kiss my skin, my large breasts swaying free, my neat pussy bare. Louise’s slim frame glowed beside me, her small breasts pert. Richard’s eyes widened, drinking us in, and he quipped, “Two sirens arise from the sand, with beauty no mortal withstands…” Before he could finish, we pushed him gently onto the blankets.

He lay back, naked and sprawling, and we sat on either side of his hips, treating him like a sculpture. “Look at this,” I said, hushed as I studied his cock, thick and resting against his thigh. “It’s so… substantial.”

Louise tilted her head, appraising. “Smooth, too. Perfectly shaped, almost too good to be real.”

I reached out, wrapping my fingers around it. “God, it’s heavy,” I said, lifting it toward her. She took it eagerly, her slim hand testing its heft.

“Solid,” she agreed, stroking it. “Feels like it’s waking up.”

We toyed with him, passing it back and forth, marveling as it stiffened. It grew, thick and pulsing, and Richard murmured, “A rod rises proud in their grasp, two muses who tease and clasp…” We laughed, ignoring his verse as we continued. “Look how it curves,” I said, tracing its length. “Beautiful.”

Louise teased the tip. “And responsive. He’s loving this.”

I leaned down first, my lips brushing the head, tasting salt. It swelled in my mouth, stretching my lips. Louise dipped lower, sucking his balls, her tongue careful. His groans spurred us, and soon we were both at his cock, lips meeting along its length, tongues tangling until he was rock-hard, glistening.

Louise pulled back, breathless. “Lynn, ride him. He’s ready.”

I straddled his hips, guiding that massive cock to my entrance, my tight pussy aching as I sank down. The stretch was exquisite, filling me completely. His hands found my breasts, kneading them, thumbs flicking my nipples as I rocked. My fingers slipped to my clit, circling fast, pleasure building. Then I remembered Louise watching, eyes dark with lust and the thrill doubled. I came hard, clenching around him, a cry tearing free as waves crashed through me.

The Finale

Louise claimed him next, swinging a leg over his hips as I slid off, trembling. I watched, mesmerized, as she took him in, her slim body arching. Her small breasts bounced, her face twisting in ecstasy, and I couldn’t look away her pleasure was raw, magnetic. Richard, beneath her, muttered, “A dance of desire in the sun…” but his words dissolved into a groan.

He beckoned me, husky. “Lynn, come here.” I straddled his face, lowering until his tongue found me. It was heaven, hot and insistent, lapping my clit as I gripped the blanket. Louise’s rhythm faltered as she came, a sharp cry escaping, and she flopped off, spent.

Richard shifted me onto all fours, his hands firm on my hips. He entered me from behind, driving deep, relentless. He fucked me hard, long thrusts rattling my bones, each one pushing me closer. “A rhythm of flesh, wild and free…” he gasped, mid-thrust, and I exploded, my pussy clamping down, milking him. He grunted, pulling out, his cum spraying across my back, warm and thick, marking me as he collapsed.

We lay tangled in the aftermath, the seals forgotten, the dunes our witnesses. Richard panted, “Three souls in the sand, undone…” and we laughed, too breathless to care. The sun dipped lower, and I knew this was a story beyond X but one I’d never forget.

March 20, 2025
Ode to Positions

Missionary

For him, it’s the weight of her gaze, locked tight,
A rhythm he sets with hips pressed close,
Her warmth beneath, a cradle of light,
Each thrust a pulse through veins verbose.
Her legs part wide, a welcoming frame,
He feels her breath, her whispered plea,
Control is his, a steady claim,
Yet tender in her arms he’d be.
For her, it’s his strength above, a shield,
His chest a wall, his eyes a fire,
She pulls him in, her body yields,
A dance of trust, a shared desire.
Her hands explore his back, his strain,
Each move a wave that rocks her core,
She’s grounded here, yet free to reign,
A union deep, an ancient lore.
His pace can shift, from soft to bold,
Her sighs a guide, a rising tide,
Together they meld, a tale retold,
In closeness where their worlds collide.

Doggy

He grips her hips, a primal hold,
Her curves align, a sight to chase,
The angle deep, the thrust so bold,
A rush that floods his every space.
For him, it’s power, raw and free,
Her arch a gift, her sway a call,
He drives with force, yet feels her glee,
A rhythm wild that conquers all.
For her, it’s surrender, yet control,
Her knees dig in, her back a bow,
Each push ignites her deepest soul,
A spark that only he can sow.
She feels him fill her, stretch her wide,
A heat that builds from root to crown,
Her hands grip sheets, her voice a tide,
A storm where she can’t help but drown.
He loves the view, her form displayed,
She revels in the feral play,
Together they’re a beast remade,
In shadows where their passions sway.

Cowgirl

For her, it’s reign atop his throne,
She rides his length, a queen in stride,
Her hips dictate the tempo’s tone,
A power surge she can’t subside.
She grinds or bounces, sets the pace,
His hands on her, a guiding touch,
Her pleasure blooms across her face,
A freedom he can’t love too much.
For him, it’s her, a vision bold,
Her breasts sway free, her eyes alight,
He’s hers to use, to have, to hold,
A thrill beneath her ruling might.
He feels her clench, her warmth descend,
Each roll a wave that pulls him in,
She takes him deep, a rising trend,
A dance where both can only win.
Her breath grows sharp, her rhythm wild,
His groans a hymn to her command,
She leads them both, a fiery child,
In union forged by her own hand.

Reverse Cowgirl

She turns away, a daring twist,
For her, it’s freedom in reverse,
Her hips still rule, her wrists assist,
A grind that makes his senses burst.
She feels him hit a hidden spot,
A curve that sparks her inner flame,
Her back to him, she calls each shot,
A thrill where she’s the one to tame.
For him, it’s her silhouette in view,
Her spine a line, her ass a prize,
He thrusts below, a force anew,
A heat that climbs between his thighs.
He loves the mystery, her sway,
She moves with grace, a backward dance,
His hands can grip or fall away,
A ride that builds in sweet expanse.
Her cries ring out, her pace her own,
His pulse aligns, a mirrored beat,
Together they’re a wild unknown,
In flipped delight where passions meet.

Spooning

For him, it’s closeness, skin to skin,
Her back to chest, a tender fit,
He slides inside, a gentle win,
A slow burn where their bodies knit.
His arm around, he holds her near,
Each thrust a nudge, a soft caress,
He feels her sigh, her warmth so clear,
A peace in love’s own quiet press.
For her, it’s safety, wrapped in him,
His breath on neck, a whispered song,
She melts into his every whim,
A place where she can just belong.
The angle’s soft, yet deep enough,
Her hips tilt back, a subtle plea,
She feels his care, his steady bluff,
A bond that flows so naturally.
His pace is calm, her heart at ease,
They rock as one, a gentle tide,
In spooning’s glow, they find release,
A warmth where souls and flesh reside.

Standing

He lifts her up or bends her low,
For him, it’s strength, a bold display,
Her body pressed, a vertical show,
A rush that sweeps his breath away.
The wall a brace, her legs a grip,
He thrusts with force, a standing claim,
Each move a jolt, a heated trip,
A fire stoked in passion’s frame.
For her, it’s thrill, the upright dare,
His hands support, his power near,
She feels the air, the wild affair,
A surge that drowns out every fear.
Her back may arch, her thighs may wrap,
A dance defying gravity’s pull,
She rides his strength, a sudden snap,
A storm where both their senses mull.
He loves the challenge, she the height,
Together they defy the norm,
In standing’s rush, they find their might,
A clash of flesh in fervent form.

Lotus

For him, it’s her upon his lap,
Legs crossed, a seat of tender grace,
He pulls her close, a loving trap,
Her eyes a mirror to his face.
Each thrust is short, yet deep and true,
Her chest to his, a heartbeat’s blend,
He feels her pulse, her warmth anew,
A union where their spirits mend.
For her, it’s intimacy’s embrace,
His thighs a throne, his arms a nest,
She rocks with him, a sacred space,
A closeness pressed against his chest.
Her legs entwine, her hips align,
A slow grind builds their shared delight,
She feels his breath, his soul’s design,
A bond that glows in softest light.
His hands caress, her sighs respond,
They sway as one, a lotus bloom,
In stillness fierce, they forge beyond,
A love that fills the quiet room.

Sixty-Nine

He lies beneath, her taste so near,
For him, it’s dual, a mirrored treat,
Her mouth on him, a thrill so clear,
A cycle where their pleasures meet.
He laps her core, her scent a guide,
Each lick a spark, a give-and-take,
He feels her hum, his rising tide,
A dance where both their senses wake.
For her, it’s his, a pulsing prize,
She takes him deep, her tongue a play,
His lips below, a sweet surprise,
A rhythm shared in bold display.
She feels his groan, his breath on her,
A loop of bliss, a mutual hum,
Her hips may buck, her thoughts a blur,
A storm where both their rivers run.
He loves the chaos, she the sync,
Together they’re a tangled flame,
In sixty-nine, they teeter brink,
A game where neither stakes a claim.

Scissor

For him, it’s angles sharp and strange,
Her legs a V, his hips askew,
He slides inside, a tight exchange,
A twist that feels both wild and new.
The friction’s odd, yet hits just right,
He grips her thigh, a guiding star,
Each thrust a test of strength and sight,
A puzzle locked from near to far.
For her, it’s stretch, a daring pose,
His shaft a line that cuts through deep,
She feels the clash, the way it grows,
A spark that makes her body leap.
Her hips adjust, her core aligns,
A slant that shifts her inner glow,
She rides the edge, the strange confines,
A heat that only he can sow.
He loves the fit, she loves the strain,
Together they’re a jagged dance,
In scissor’s grip, they break the plane,
A union born of bold expanse.

Wheelbarrow

He stands behind, her legs in hand,
For him, it’s play, a lifting rush,
Her weight a challenge he can stand,
A thrust that makes his senses flush.
The angle’s steep, the plunge profound,
He feels her clench, her pulse so tight,
Each move a game on shaky ground,
A thrill that soars to primal height.
For her, it’s trust, a wild ascent,
Her hands press down, her body free,
She feels him deep, a fierce intent,
A ride where gravity’s the key.
Her core ignites, her breath a cry,
A stretch that pulls her every nerve,
She’s held aloft, yet she can fly,
A curve where pleasures twist and swerve.
He loves the sport, she loves the dare,
Together they defy the fall,
In wheelbarrow, they strip it bare,
A romp that answers passion’s call.

Butterfly

For him, it’s her upon the edge,
A table’s lip, her hips aligned,
He stands and thrusts, a perfect pledge,
A depth where all his thoughts unwind.
Her legs aloft, his hands a brace,
He feels her open, wet and wide,
Each stroke a claim, a steady pace,
A rush that swells his every stride.
For her, it’s lift, a floating state,
Her back reclines, her thighs apart,
She feels him plunge, a piercing fate,
A spark that strikes her beating heart.
Her hands may grip, her voice may rise,
A position poised for pure release,
She’s bared to him, a sweet surprise,
A bloom where tensions find their peace.
He loves the view, she loves the soar,
Together they’re a fragile flight,
In butterfly, they both explore,
A dance of edges in the night.

Pretzel Dip

He kneels between, her leg up high,
For him, it’s twist, a knot of flesh,
A thrust that curves, a deep-cut sigh,
A blend where bodies intermesh.
Her warmth surrounds, her grip so tight,
He feels the pull, the sideways slant,
Each move a spark, a wild delight,
A rhythm born of bold enchant.
For her, it’s stretch, a daring bend,
One leg aloft, the other down,
She feels him deep, a piercing send,
A thrill that makes her senses drown.
Her hips adjust, her core responds,
A pose that mixes soft and fierce,
She rides the wave, the heated bonds,
A dip where pleasure’s arrow pierce.
He loves the tangle, she the play,
Together they’re a twisted art,
In pretzel’s grip, they find their way,
A clash that binds them heart to heart.

Legs on Shoulders

He lifts her legs, a high ascent,
For him, it’s depth, a plunging line,
Her ankles rest, his shoulders bent,
A thrust that feels both fierce and fine.
He grips her thighs, her core exposed,
Each stroke a dive, a forceful claim,
He feels her quake, her heat unclosed,
A rush that sets his soul aflame.
For her, it’s stretch, a vulnerable arc,
Her legs aloft, her body bare,
She feels him hit her deepest mark,
A spark that fills the heated air.
Her hands may clutch, her back may bow,
A position raw, a tender dare,
She’s open wide, yet safe somehow,
A tide where both their pleasures share.
He loves the power, she the reach,
Together they’re a soaring flight,
In legs on high, they each beseech,
A union burning through the night.

Side by Side

For him, it’s ease, a lateral glide,
Her hip to his, a mirrored plane,
He slips inside, a gentle ride,
A warmth that soothes yet drives insane.
His arm around, he pulls her near,
Each thrust a nudge, a soft caress,
He feels her pulse, her breath so clear,
A calm in passion’s sweet excess.
For her, it’s rest, a tender fit,
His chest a wall, his hand a guide,
She rocks with him, a quiet hit,
A flow where both their tides abide.
Her leg may lift, her sigh may bloom,
A closeness wrapped in subtle play,
She feels his care, his steady plume,
A bond that holds the night at bay.
He loves the sync, she loves the peace,
Together they’re a rolling wave,
In side by side, they find release,
A love that neither needs to save.

Leapfrog

He kneels behind, her hips up high,
For him, it’s thrust, a playful leap,
Her form a bridge beneath the sky,
A plunge that sinks both strong and deep.
He grips her waist, her arch a call,
Each stroke a bound, a wild advance,
He feels her clench, her rise and fall,
A romp that sparks a feral dance.
For her, it’s lift, a frog-like pose,
Her chest pressed down, her back a slope,
She feels him deep, where pleasure grows,
A rush that offers boundless scope.
Her knees dig in, her breath a cry,
A stretch that pulls her every string,
She’s grounded yet she soars to fly,
A leap where ecstasy takes wing.
He loves the chase, she loves the height,
Together they’re a bounding flame,
In leapfrog’s grip, they ignite,
A game where passion stakes its claim.

March 20, 2025