#344977 - It is why I can talk to a man, and in my mind entertain the most vivid and extreme images and words that describe him fucking me, but my capacity for denial of the truth means the man senses none of this - no hint at all, none whatsoever, of the raw primal awesomely powerful sex and fucking that I am thinking while I talk to him, about anything but sex. And I orgasm hard, snaking, naked, crying out, the images and feelings and words intensifying the tidal wave of orgasm as it washes through me. I used to think that I looked inelegant doing this - like a beached whale - until I saw a video my husband took, which showed me how sensually I moved - my whole body writhing, squirming, my hips rising and falling, my thighs parting and closing - surprisingly sensual.
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