Her, From the Past.

She was spellbinding.
She enraptured me.
She fascinated me.
She captivated me.
She transfixed me.
She delighted me.
She charmed me.
She riveted me.
She raped me.
She used me.
She played me.
She abused me.
She exploited me.
She got away with it.

Ginger Love.

Speckled, scattered, smattered-- freckle-flecked femmes, oh my, did they arouse her.

Connecting the dots in her mind now, with fingertip or tongue, 'til she comes to full satisfaction.

Ginger, her favorite spice, because she loves her flavor melting in her mouth after her hands.

Overtime.

Sleeve on his erection, she slides back.

His manhood in her wetness, she slides deep.

Clenching as she climaxes, she rolls up her sleeves for more work with her boss instead of clocking out.

Betrayal.

She lies there asleep, breathing softly as thoughts ravage my mind now.

The bed of lies on which I rest my head is so soft, so seductive.

Every letter she texted to him at 2 AM can only spell disaster for my soul.

Storm Sex.

Wind driving big fat raindrops into flesh.

Flesh on flesh, he is driving deeply into her wetness.

Nature is a mother, as her voice is drowned by thunder when she climaxes.

Post Game Play.

Her microphone in his face, persistent after the win.

His shaft inside her wetness, filling her deeply after he's in.

Her clenching, consistent after she climaxes, signaling a winning interview that she's in.

No Longer Fallow.

Ticklish targets, fingertips falling onto flesh.

Blossoming, blooming, petals opening as the gardener plows her lush fields.

Sighing, breathless when the heartbeats return to normal.