Malling Kisses

July 22nd, 2008

His fingers grabbed at my shorts as I ran across the living room. He caught the waistband and had them off me by the time I made it to the bedroom. I jumped on the waterbed and started kicking the blankets down.

"No more fucking on the blankets," I said. "No fucking."

On the open sheets, he dropped onto his face and feigned sleep. I smiled and reached down, trailing on finger along his asscrack. His whined and wiggled and pushed away. I laughed as I fell onto my back.

He attacked me. He leapt between my legs in a fury of humping and kissing. He smashed his face hard into mine, grating his whiskers across my cheeks and chin like sandpaper. He left his mouth open and his lips relaxed, spreading slobber all over me. I was wet and raw and laughing uncontrollably.

"It's malling kisses," he said.