Watermelon Kisses 🍉

I remember a lot about him. The growl in his green eyes, the parts of his body that he loved to get tickled, the smell of his skin in the morning when he would almost suff0cat3 me against his chest from hugging me so tight.

There were two particular things that he loved. The colour red and the taste of watermelon.

By this point he will know who he is. So if your'e reading this...

"Hey Handsome x " 💋

Did I take these photos purposely for a story time and purely based around him? Yes.
Will I regret this? Hell No.

This occasion was one of the last nights that we had spent together. Every time this relationship was about to end, the passion suddenly escalated to a level that I never knew possible. We were wild, in love and completely out of control. Every time we discovered a new weakness we would t0rtur3 each other with it. Hence how I ended up with an entire drawer filled with the most deliciously seductive red lingerie and other various, shall we say, garments & accessories.

"You're fucking gorgeous"

I felt his whispering words caress my ear with the warmth of his breath as I used my toes to help finish off the removal of my thong from around my legs. I scanned his shoulders and paused to admire the perfect print of my red lipstick that was amazingly still in place from earlier on. I have an image saved in my memory that I wish I could turn into a hard copy. A print that is just perfect to frame and hang on the wall at home. The one part of his shoulder that wasn't covered in ink and there were my lips. Filling that gap like the final piece of a complicated jigsaw.

My vision became blurred and my attention was snatched away by the pain of him biting my neck and the unexpected thrust that had me gasping, moaning and falling in love that little bit more.

I gushed all over him and I could feel the inside of my thighs dr0wn1ng in juices and desperation. We were never going to last a lifetime together but sometimes I wonder, if the choice was up to my pussy and my pussy alone...
we would more than likely still be fucking.

The knickers always came off first while whatever was on my top half always got to stay on for a whole 5 minutes longer before that was also removed and flung in whichever direction was convenient.

He was so big. In more ways than one. My stomach still gets knots of awe in it when I think of his 6ft 3, broad shouldered, muscular frame on top of me. I really did feel like a rag doll when I was with him. Just the way I like it. Stripped bare with my watermelon flavoured mouth doing everything that he wanted it to do for him while he flung me and folded me into every position in the Kama Sutra.

My red lingerie may have spent most of its time on the floor but he always made sure that it didn't go to waste. This particular little two piece made its way back onto the bed. The scent of rose & vanilla blew gently through the air as the lingerie was put in place. His thick, tattooed legs began to tense as his thrusts became more vigorous. I looked down as my face developed a smug and satisfied expression. He pulled that rock hard cock out of me and ensured that every last drop landed exactly where he wanted it to.

I told you that red was his favourite colour.

"Another lingerie set that's owned my me now" he groaned with contentment.

"I would own you if I could but you don't know how to behave yourself. You would fuck with my head and you talk back too much"

He told me this often. It annoyed me. It also satisfied me? I don't know who he was trying to convince. Me or him?

"I get it, for god sake. You only have the skill and mental maturity to handle me in the bedroom. Outwith these sheets, you wouldn't have a clue what to do with a girl like me."

Silence filled with the bedroom. Every time I spoke back to him I knew there was something deep inside of him that actually liked it. The corners of his mouth would ever so slightly begin to smirk. So slight that you would have to be as close to him as I was to notice it.

Why are the control freaks always the best in bed, the mentally unstable always the most attractive and why on earth can the big boys never handle a girl who doesn't bite her tongue?

That's the answer right there. Boys.

(I never took that lingerie home with me and I often wonder where it ended up? If I ever find out one day, I can guarantee that you will all be the first to know)

Kisses, Nova x