Monthly Archives: October 2018

erection perfection

I love your cock when it’s flaccid. And I deliciously have it in my mouth.
Sabbling. Do you so. Is almost sweet. Don’t you think?
I love your cock when it is half hard. And I gently suck on your balls. Feel it?
I love your cock when it gets hard. And I make em harder. Now.
I love your cock when he’s horny hard. Right?
I love it when we tongues and I feel em through your pants. Straight away.
I love your cock when I get em out of your pants. Go on my knees. For you. Bend.
I love your cock when I suck on it, give you a blowjob whilst you move you and eventually me, control me, hold my hair tightly. Deep throat fucking. That’s what its called.

blue hour

The blue hour is the name for the phenomenon that in the morning, the hour before sunrise and in the evening just after sunset, the air and the surroundings takes on a blue color under certain conditions.
The hour between day and night, neither the one nor the other.
I never understood it correctly, but now I do.
The blue hour is part of twilight, which I already wrote about. The name originated from French: l’heure bleue.
The light is beautiful, very soft with a warm shade.
It shows your skin better.
It shows you, but not all.
Would you wake me up?
Or, for my part, we stay together awake for it.
Fuck me until the sun rises.

sticker (me) girl

Occasionally it happens that I’m approached by someone who reads my blog. I think that’s fantastic and it makes me feel very very honored.
In this case I was approached by a very nice girl. She wrote me to tell me she is a fan of blogporn, how cool is that?
She follows me on Instagram and I follow her back. That’s how it goes, right?
I have looked at her profile and I like her. Already. Because of who she is or what makes me think who she is. Both can and can both. In the wonderful world of social media.
This special girl has name as written in (the) stars. I like it.
Her style is personal and her gaze is steels playful. I hope she holds this, all her life.
I have asked this girl if she wants to sticker for blogporn. She said yes and so this story goes on. Tell the tale, baby.

encore une fois

So I was in France.
I met there a very horny handsome Frenchman.
He called me sa petite.
I called him mon cher charmant.
We spoke the language. And understood each other.
Body language doesn’t need words. And actions speak louder.
Yet, I relearned his language.
And I experienced the art of chemistry. I remembered the art of chemistry.
It was kissing (with the) French.
French Kissing at her best, his best too. After all, a good start, is half the work.
It was French fucking. Yes…