Sometimes when I've been drinking too much and I read your blog, I think, uh oh, she's fantasizing about those musicians again... Can't have that :-) Maybe my influence is running low...If I were there right now, you wouldn't have time for those fantasies - I'd take you in my arms and carry you straight off to a big firm bed. You'd be too busy with the sensations of me rubbing my body against yours, as I give you a stern tongue lashing (up and down your thighs all around your clit), followed by a hard, deep fucking, to stretch you out and to to fill you back up, so that all your secret places are completely taken up by my seed again. Soaked in my cum, you'd take on my smell, and you'd keep a part of me inside you, a hot packet to keep you constantly reminded every time you move of the goat-man in your life and what he can do for you. If that's not enough, then it's over the fence rail for you, a relentless pounding of your cunt and rubbing of your clit as I come, over and over, far inside of you.
Then I mellow out. Don't worry, your fantasies are whatever you wish. My thoughts wander to what we'd to when we're just quietly lying there together, relaxing, my fingers stroking you, twirling your soft, soaked pussy hair. To later, another day, when we're out and about and you give me a little reminder of our sexy times together. Pressing your body against mine so I can feel your curves through your clothes, and you feel my resulting bulge, you whisper how you still have some of me inside of you, keeping you warm from the inside out.
