Fiona Thrust

He pulled my head back further, and I could hear his ragged breathing as his mouth came close to my ear, sounding so desperate for me. God, I was turned on so much_

The thought went through my mind that we should film ourselves in our sexual act, and project our frenzied copulation permanently onto the walls of the tea-room, as a lesson to wake up the boring people who drank tea here, and to show them what life was really all about.

Lust, pure gorgeous lust: the sacred energy that elevates us, and makes us feel so special.

The air felt thick with the feeling between us, like it was filling the room: a room full of our carnal heat, our hot desire for each other. Both my hands were clenched on the tablecloth, bunching it tightly, as he continued to swipe the belt against my quivering ass cheeks, and I could feel his tight fist yank repeatedly on my hair.

He was the kind of man I wanted: wild, hot, horny, and losing control. And it all pointed back to me, about how much I felt in control of him, with the power of my body.I felt so in control of him; it was dizzying, and intoxicating.

I stood in front of him, frustratedly imagining his naked muscular chest, and wanting his hot cock to spear me. My nipples were aroused, feeling as hard and long as coat hooks. They prodded fiercely through the thin blue material at him, like little calling signs of how horny and ready for sex I was. The best advertisement of all: erect nipples!

He closed the door behind us, and led me through to the back of the shop. __f you don__ mind, you can get changed in the stock cupboard,_ he said. __e__e not posh enough here to have staff changing rooms, but you__l soon get used to it.___h, don__ worry, Chris,_ I said warmly. ____ used to getting my clothes off in unusual places.

He handed the dust pan and brush over. I knew they wouldn__ be much use in cleaning the floor. I also knew the real reason he had given them to me: so he could look furtively at me, as I bent over.That idea turned me on. I welcomed it, and decided to give him a good look at what he wanted.

It was the impatience of the way he tore my panties from my body, that really turned me on: I was all he could think of, as his lust got the better of

I love being aroused.I relish that delicious feeling of freedom, the delirium of being naked, and my flesh being born again. It__ like I__ being made new.

It was the impatience of the way he tore my panties from my body, that really turned me on: I was all he could think of, as his lust got the better of him. The way they looked so small, and cruelly forgotten, was a beautiful symbol of how much we both needed to satisfy our lusts.

To feel aroused is to feel alive. Having great sex is like taking in huge lungfuls of fresh air, essential to your body, essential to your health, and essential to your life.

It was the wildness of it that got me going: the primal lust, the sheer needs of two people in heat, quickly finding ways to express their sacred hunger to each other in animal passion.

I live for sex. I celebrate it, and relish the electricity of it, with every fibre of my being. I can see no better reason for being alive.