Below is the questions asked, and the results.

Hair

Black: 50%

Brunette 20%

Redhead 10%

Blonde 20%

Tits

A 25%

B 30%

C 30%

D 15%

Weight

95-110 – 20%

110-150 – 60%

150-200 – 15%

200+ 5%

Height

This was to broad to pick. Most said from 5 ft to 6 ft.

Shaved/Bald

No hair – 15%

Bush – 85%

Dominate/submissive

Most agreed that a dominate/aggressive woman would be their preference.

Are you surprised? I can honestly say that I am a little surprised. When we think of the All American woman most would say busty, blonde, with a tiny waist and a big butt. As you can see, that wasn’t the response with the men that I questioned.

According to Vocal Media the list of perfect women include:

Kim Jai-Soo

Zendaya

Deepika Padukone

Bella Hadid

Hande Eurcel

Gal Gadot

Margot Robbie

Emma Watson

Priyanka Chopra Jonas

Lily Collins

My ideal of the perfect woman is a little different than these, though all are beautiful. If I had to choose one woman that to me was the most outstanding in looks, it would be Vivien Leigh. Her beauty was unmatched, but it was her sass that really sunk me. In the role of Scarlet O’Hara she was a force to be reckoned with. Mouth, brash, and knew how to drive a man wild. Those eyes could melt the soul, but the wickedness behind them was devastating.

In all honesty, is there really a perfect woman? No, but some will still take your breath away and frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!

For fun I asked AI to make me the perfect woman using a generator. What do you think?

The post Build the Perfect Woman appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

(Disclaimer: This is purely fiction.)

“Gypsy, you have a client who is wanting you for 24 hours. He will send the itinerary over in a few hours. I will fax it to you.”

Dave didn’t even look up from his food. He lost himself in a bowl of pasta, when I left, a dribble of the sauce dripping down his chin. It was a little repulsive. When you work in an industry filled with beautiful people, you don’t get excited anymore. The necessities of life become prevalent.

I arrived home as the fax came through. I ignored it for a moment. The shower was more of what I needed. The way the water kissed over my flesh forced me to linger a bit, fantasize as my fingers caressed over my soft folds. Pushing the digits inside, the shrill of the phone stopped my exploration. I wouldn’t finish now, but later, this need would be sedate.

Stopped by a telemarketer had to be the icing on the cake. Selling home security, I tried five times to discourage them, but had to hang up in self-defense. It was at that time when I started reading over the fax. Shocked would be an understatement.

The car will arrive at 8 pm, please pack for a three-day stay, though your only needed for 24 hours. Your flight leaves at 10 pm, and you will arrive in Los Vegas by dawn. The limo driver will ask for the non-disclosure. I assume you understand the need for discretion at all times. Please be aware that you will not be staying at my house. I have obtained a hotel room for you.

You will arrive at the hotel for breakfast. Please eat, shower, and nap. At 7 pm you will need to be at my home for a production release party. Please dress in formal attire.

The next 12 hours were a blur. I had signed the non-disclosure and gave it to the driver. Flown to Vegas, and now I was standing in the client’s home’s entryway. I can’t mention his name, but wow, this was earth-shattering.
“He’s expecting you. The other guests have arrived, but you are to meet him in the office. If you will follow me!”

Straight to the point, the Butler spoke in a heavy British accent. He was about 5o, grey hair, and slender. He looked like he could have fallen from a James Bond movie and landed right here. In my head, I had named him Jeeves.
“Gypsy, so nice to see you. I trust you got everything you needed?”

In awe, my head shook a little. I was standing in the same room as this man whom I had fantasized about so often. His voice was that of an angel, but I knew he was no saint. He was a pure devil. All the tabloids confirmed he was one of the biggest assholes in Hollywood. Right now, though, he was perfect. Biting down on my bottom lip, I needed to pull myself together. This was no way for a grown woman to behave.

“Of course. The flight was nice, and the room, well, it’s beautiful.”

After a 3 second internal fight with my common sense, I was back. There is no possible way that I want to be a star gazing little fool. He enlightened me about the party going on. It was a new album release. Living the life he did, it wasn’t profitable for him to settle with one woman. Since he wanted sex later, I was a sure thing.

As the clean crew worked diligently on the house, the two of us retired to the pool. Clothing dropping on the cement patio. I love sex in the water. Shocked, he was well endowed. So much so that I gasped a bit, giving him the ego boost he was seeking. Every man likes to know he can pleasure a woman. He would please me repeatedly with that monster cock.

“Lay back on the edge of the pool. I haven’t had a pussy I wanted to eat in years. Yours is magnificent.”

I swear I blushed. I have never had my pussy complimented like that before. Doing as told, I laid the towel on the concrete. My legs remained in the water as he spread me open. How can you prepare for this? He was, well, who he was, and I was a whore. Starting at my toes, he suckled each digit into his mouth, his tongue tracing them in a seductive dance. I will admit that I love this. It’s erotic the way he played each little piggy. He was making love to the perfectly manicured little tootsies. He sucked each one as though it was my clit, and he was trying to make me cum. Honestly, I almost did a few times.

One foot, and then the other, his mouth worked its way up to my heated center. By now, there was a delicate trickle of liquid love trailing from my pussy. He blew softly, his air enveloped my wet lips, sending shivers up and down my spine. Between the night air, and his mouth, I was on the edge of explosion. It was too soon to come. I didn’t want to ruin this. A swirl of his tongue over my clit, I had to reach down and grab the pool’s edge to stop myself from riding his face. I’m sure he would like it, but I didn’t know his boundaries yet.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Whimpering, my voice called out like a beacon. Being a vocal lover, I know that most men love when a woman encourages them. The actions of his tongue proved that to be true. Dividing my slit with the tip of his oral muscle, my clit throbbed the moment he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves. My shaking couldn’t be sedated. The talents of his oral skills had a flood of fluids dripping down my crack, pooling beneath my ass.

A hand crept down my body, tangling in his hair, I fed him my sweet entrance, lost each time his tongue dipped into my tiny pink rim. A circle drawn around my precious little peach, I heard him sucking the sweetness from my honeycomb. He was slurping from the fountain, my pussy squirting into his mouth. I drenched his face with my sweet, liquid love. Cumming was a surprise. I had the moment he pushed the tip inside of me. The tip of his tongue that is. His dick would come soon, but right now, the waves of rapture cascaded through my veins, and heaven found.

The post Adult Bedtime Story time with Gypsy appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

“How the hell did I end up here?”

Gypsy, 32, had a death wish of sorts. A lover of all things spooky, when she found the flyer at her work for a tour of cemeteries, she was instantly excited. So much so that her nipples strained against the silk blouse she wore. Placing her arm over the front of her shirt, it was too late.

“So you going to that?” Bob asked.

Bob was the office hound. He would fuck anything that let him and had many times over. Most of the girls in the office stayed as far away from him as they could. The only good thing about Bob was that his dick was always hard. If you needed a quick relief, he was the one guy you wished never had a big mouth after you fucked. Gypsy knew better after her friend Sasha was on the receiving end of one of his wild office sex stories. Sure, she did it but never realized that he would tell everyone, including her boss. After a write-up, lecture, and a blow job, she kept her job.

Holding tight to the paper, Gypsy shook her head, knowing she was already excited about the spooky night in the cemetery. Salem had some of the nicest ones, and yet, all of them claimed to hold the bodies of burned witches and other creatures or the night. The few times she ventured into one, it was daylight, and she was never alone. According to the flyer, each person was to walk in alone, and they would wait five minutes before the next.

“I can’t wait. I love this kind of stuff. Well, I got to go. Sorry Bob, but I need to work,” Gypsy said, walking away quickly.

The following Friday, standing at the gate of the most notorious cemetery in Salem, Massachusetts, Vanessa waited with the crowd for the attraction to open. Small talk back and forth, the one person she noticed missing was Bob, the office horn dog. She was sure he would show up but hoped she was long gone before he was. Seeing that man after hours wasn’t anything she wanted.

“Gypsy, you’re next. Remember to stay on the path, follow the signs, and oh yeah, don’t believe anything you see. The ghost’s come here to make you lose your mind,” he laughed. The man was none other than the CEO of the company she worked for and a well-known practical joker. For a man in his 40’s, he loved to play little mind-twisting games.

“HAHA, I will make sure to bring one back to work with me next week,” she said, her lashes batting at the affluent male. He was a catch, and she wanted to be the cat to lure him closer.

As she stood at the open gate looking down at herself, Gypsy was glad that she wore a simple pair of jeans, a red hoodie, and her favorite pair of running shoes. If she needed to outrun the spirit world, at least, she was dressed for it.

The old burying point, otherwise known as the charter street cemetery, was the haunt location. As Gypsy walked down the pebble path, she noticed the age of the graves the first time. Back then, they believed in marking the graves with sizeable above ground stones. Most of them in perfect shape. There was the very few with small crumbling age spots. Most of these people were buried back when you did not forget the dead.

“Gypsy,” called the wind.

Stopping, the young woman looked around, her body covering with chills. The place was finally starting to get to her. Twenty minutes in, she had never felt so alone in her entire life.

“Hello? Whose out there? This isn’t funny,” she whispered,” shaking, she wrapped her arms around herself.

Rusting from behind one of the oldest graves in the place sent Gypsy in a tailspin as she took no chances, running into an ancient mausoleum on a small hill. Stopping at the door, her heels digging into the earth, the last thing she wanted was to make that first step inside. Phantom, heavy breathing behind her, opened the door and forced her inside the small brick building.

Pushing her body back into a small alcove, the shadow of whoever called to her filled the entire opening to the room.

“Gypsy, come out and play with me,” called the voice.

That was the first time she realized who it was. Her boss and CEO had followed her through the cemetery to scare her. No wonder he was the one at the gate.

Sliding out of the hole she was tucked away in, Gypsy couldn’t help but laugh the moment she saw a man standing in a wolf mask, his hands reached out for her.

“Oh, has the giant nasty wolf monster chased the little girl into the darkroom? Are those teeth going to eat me?” she taunted.

Pulling her forward, that man in the mask groped at her clothing, ripping her pants down in a rushed manner. He took her red silk panties along for the ride.

“Oh fuck, are you going to devour me now, Mr. Wolfie?” Gypsy asked.

As he pushed her to the ground, the monster looked down with a sinister growl. Pulling his zipper down, pulling out the biggest cock she had ever seen, he took no time to crawl between her legs. He was not only going to fuck her, but he was soiling hallowed ground. One thrust, and he forced that monster dick inside of her dripping pussy, slamming balls deep inside the young woman. His grunts animalistic, he pounded through her slippery wet pussy walls with a force that inched her towards one to the crypts, bracing her body so she couldn’t escape. Not that she was trying to go anywhere. Fucking her boss was something she always wanted.

“Oh fuck, god damn, fuck me harder, wolfman,” she cried.

As he pulled back to the head each time, the monster slammed deeper into her puffy lips, stretching them open to mold to his dick. He was insane with lust, and she wanted nothing more than to cum all over his cock before someone found them.

Deep grunts, the monster forced his way in, both of them crying out in a painful cry of lust. Anyone walking by would think it was sound effects for the scary event.

Both of them shaking, the monster in the wolf mask pulled back, pulling his pants up before standing over the cum soaked woman. With an evil cackle of laughter, he pulled the mask off, tossing it onto the well-used woman on the ground.

“You wouldn’t fuck me in the office, but now I know your kink. Scare the shit out of you, and your panties come off,” Bob said, walking out with a new story to tell the office on Monday morning.

The post Monsters Exist In The Filthy Mind appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Thank you to one of my great callers. He was the muse behind this story.

Notorious. Yes, that’s the rumors that she heard about the parties at the manor. Each person made to sign an NDA; Gypsy knew nothing other than they would change their lives after one night. Rumor had it that a live sex act was center stage during the event. That alone had her tingling so deep that she swore she was having secret little orgasms to prepare for it all.

Re-reading the invitation, she glanced through her closet for something to wear. Since it’s a formal event, she had to find a stunning gown that would make heads turn. The little Devil inside of her loved being the center of attention. A floor length red sequined dress, a pair of matching 5-inch stilettos, and diamonds. Lots of diamonds accentuated the outfit. She saved the best stuff for things like this.

An hour later in the back of a limo, Gypsy twitched in anticipation. She couldn’t talk about what was waiting for her beyond the doors of that expensive house. Keeping secrets was not her best trait, but she would for a chance to peek into another world. As the car came to a stop, the door opened and a hand held out for her to take. It was male, but other than that she was in a sudden haze. A stranger held Gypsy’s fingers. She felt like she was walking on clouds as he led her to the door. That wasn’t the host, but on a night like this, who knows what fate holds.

“Good evening,” the voice called out the moment the sky-high solid oak door opened. A tall man gray haired man stood in the entryway with a smile creasing his lips. He was handsome in a way that made a girl want to giggle out the /daddy/ name the moment you met him. Whoever he was there should be no doubt in his mind that Gypsy was awestruck by his appearance. She always did enjoy the company of older men over one her own age.

“Welcome to the party, dear. Won’t you join us?” the stunning man asked.

As she walked across the threshold, Gypsy let out a soft internal moan. A woman alone shouldn’t put herself in situations like this, but she couldn’t stop her feet. The house, or maybe the man pulled her in like a moth to a flame. Even if she tried, there was no way to stop the intense need for this man. As she passed him at the door, Gypsy inhaled the scent of the woods. He smelled like moss after a long sensual rainstorm. His presence was unlike anything she had ever felt. It nestled under her skin, attempting to surface.

Shivering when the door closed behind her, Gypsy sauntered her way into the main room of the manor. People to the left and right of her, she grabbed the first glass of wine that passed her way. Her slender fingers wrapped around the crystal goblet before bringing it to her lips. Sweet bursts of grapes caused her tongue to curl. She didn’t usually drink, but the night made her feel like she would need to later.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the show is about to start. Please be quiet and respectful of the participants,” a voice directed.

Dumbfounded for a moment, Gypsy followed the rest of the guests to what seemed to be an observation room. It was like the ones you would see in movies that showed students observing a surgical procedure. There were no seats in this one, but the viewers hurried to the big windows. The windows looked out onto a dark room. She was going to ask the woman next to her what was happening. Suddenly, the lights from below turned on and she gasped for air. The scene below felt as though it had to be unreal, but it was at that moment that she knew what the NDA was for.

On a table that looked like the one women have feared, a young blond whimpered in anticipation. She couldn’t be over twenty-one, and her body enhanced in all the right places. Long legs held apart by stirrups; her lower half blocked by a blue hospital covering. Was this a medical procedure, or something more sinister? Though she wanted to run, Gypsy stood as though she couldn’t move her legs.

“Are you ready?” a voice whispered from behind Gypsy.

Fingers pressed to the glass, she nodded her head that she was, and the events began to unfold below.

A male about fifty entered the room, standing at the girl’s head. Soft music now numbing the room, a door at the end of the lit room opened and a very slight female entered. As she walked across the floor, a very noticeable strap on rested at her waist. 9 inches in length, the flesh covered toy bounced with each step the woman took.

Shaking, Gypsy watched and listened to the events going on below. The conversations made her feel both excited and scared for the woman on the table.

“Do you hear that?” asked the male.

Whimpering, the girl on that table nodded, whispering, “Who is it?”

A loud boisterous laugh erupted from the man as he leaned in, whispering, “Does it matter? It could be a man.”

The second female smirked as she leaned down, taking the first lick of the other woman’s slit. A subtle moan erupted from the crowd, all wishing that they could taste the enchantress on the table below. One mentioned that she could smell it, but that was impossible. The viewing room was as sterile as a hospital setting. Checking to see if she was still breathing, Gypsy placed her fingers to her wrist, feeling for a pulse. She had held her breath so long that she feared passing out.

“Please don’t stop,” the young girl cried out.

“Shhh, all in due time. Patience,” the male laughed.

The female collected the nectar dripping from her pussy. She inserted three fingers into the wet opening. The slurping sounds echoed through the walls. Crying out in pain, the female on the table arched her back to see, but nothing. Her view was completely blocked. The second female pulled her fingers out, holding them up for others to view. Her nails were dripping with crimson, which she sucked off her fingers, taking her innocence. What they had seen was the deflowering of the young female. Suckling each digit as a reward, the scent of blood permeated the room.

“Are you ready?” the male whispered.

“I’m scared,” the young girl replied.

Behind the curtain the female stroked the strap on as though it was a real dick. Her slender fingers wrapped tight around the shaft; she had a look of hunger that would make most scared. She pushed the simulated cock into the other woman while everyone watched. She held her legs down even though they were already bound. Thrust after thrust, the female drove that cock deeper into the woman’s core. A violent series of thrusts took away innocence without any mercy or remorse. The aggressor used her long red nails to massage the victim’s clit. She wanted the victim to release built-up pressure in her body. The nerves swelled, causing pleasure. The victim spiraled into a pool of pleasure.

Gypsy touched herself while wearing the expensive evening gown. She was too focused to notice others having sexual enjoyment below.

From the room below the male whispered to the invited victim, “Was that a man or woman?”

Her eyes resembling those of a deer in headlights, she glanced over, “I don’t know.”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Defeated, the young girl whispered back, “No!”

Moral of this story is does it really matter? The body craves touch and whether male or female, allow yourself the pleasure of indulgence and never regret the outcome. Lust knows no boundaries. 

The post Fantasy Or Reality; Does It Really Matter? appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

As a writer I live in a world so dark that sometimes my mind scares even me. It’s not that I wish for things to happen, but that my mind plays them over and over in my head. Below is a dream that work me in the night, forcing me to scream out in orgasmic bliss. That happens when the sickness takes over. All of this is ONLY a writers fantasy.

The shrill of the phone sent her into a little panic. It was the work line and Gypsy knew there was a man who had been exchanging letters and texts with her for a while. He was very well off, and a lover of pain. She too was someone who likes the addition of some pain in her life. In this line of work, there can be no physical marks unless paid for. Each mark will cost the consumer for their presence on her body. He mentioned he wanted to spend in the 10 grand range and each one would be 500 dollars in her bank account. When the girls agreed to this, they would make the full amount, not the company. She knew full well the extent of the oncoming abuse.

In her hand was the paper that described the client. He was mid 40’s, unmarried, and a CEO of a major brokerage company in New York. He was well-groomed, attractive, std free, and yet he liked escorts. There had to be a reason why, but as long as he paid, Gypsy didn’t care. He could have a micro-penis and she could have cared less. This was not about sex for her. She worked for financial security. Her red shoe client paid her lease and for her car, and the rest paid for by monies earned through Men like this. Not a respectable career choice, but one she loved.

Standing in front of the building, it was intimidating in stature. When she looked it up online, the numbers showed that there were 112 floors. There were also 4 elevators, 3 restaurants, and a penthouse at the top that belonged to the Man. The one she was going to meet. The attendant showed her to the floor. He told her to go into the apartment and follow the instructions on the table in the foyer. Smiling, she thanked him with a 20 and he was gone. Sure she didn’t have to do that, but she knew what it was like to work check to check. Of course, that was not her life now, but it once was.

“Gypsy, you are to undress where you are. Everything folded neat and tidy. Place them in the basket to the right of you.” Looking over, she saw the one he spoke of and proceeded to do as told. This was not the normal “date” for her. She was going to play that fifty shades shit and be his submissive. Fantasy is fun, unless it’s like the movie where the Dominate only stole a girl’s virginity. That was the entire plot of the movie. He spanked her once, took her cherry, and bam, they fell in love. That is not the way it works in the real BDSM world.

Unclothed and looking to the next item, Gypsy followed and found herself down the hall to the right. It was a dark room, no, not red, but dark in its own right. Next, someone told her to lie on the bench on her stomach. Then, she should put her hands in the holes in the floor and hold onto the thin metal bars. Under no circumstances was she to release her grip until instructed to. Gypsy followed the orders, noting the coldness of the cylinder bar. That was her mind playing tricks on her, but it felt ice cold. Sometimes you feel things that are not there because the mind is a devil. It will lead you down a path of destruction if you give in to temptation.

“Gypsy! For the next 8 hours, I own you. You’re to rest when I say you need it. You’re allowed to use the restroom when I say you need to relieve yourself. Not before. Self-control is the key here. Use it.”

A few deep breaths she felt his hand on my ass. Caressing the soft skin of her round buttocks, his hands were as smooth as a baby’s bottom. He didn’t do manual labor. His hand proved that. Closing her eyes, it was a sensual movement by him, one that would very soon come to an end for the young girl.

The first slap was a shock. She felt the removal of his hand, but the placement forced her to scream. Her body arched; her puffy lips were the target. A slap so hard that her breath’s lost, she cried out in sheer blissful pain. The immediate reaction forced her lips to swell, her lower ones. Though she couldn’t see the mark, she could feel the outline of each digit on her perfect flesh. It would bruise. That she was sure of. Gripping the handles, her knuckles were turning white. A second slap landing on her right cheek, his hand gripping the flesh instead of a quick withdraw. He pressed his fingertips into her skin, leaving marks that would turn purple later. Each time he struck her, there were no words spoken. No instructions. A small grunt of relief from this Man whose face she had not even seen.

Soft music flowed through the sound system. He moved across the room, the sounds of a drawer opening, his presence once again next to Gypsy. He was getting a condom and going to finish, but no. Blinding pain, screams for mercy, and the trickles of warmth running down her backside. She didn’t know the weapon of choice, but it was horrific and intoxicating at the same time. How could something so bad, be so good at the same time. Forcing his hand to her mouth, he forced her own panties in her mouth, taping them to muffle her cries. During this all, she could have stopped it. Her hands were not bound by anything other than her own self-control. She held steadfast and in place. It was his fantasy, but she was the one who was finding true pleasure.

“Do not move. My maid will come and wash you so not to soil my floor!”

He was not done. He bought 8 hours with Gypsy. This man was paying per bruise. 5 grand in, she would reach 10 before done with her.

The post Gypsy found herself lost in her own fantasies appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

I asked if you were ready, and boy did I get a response. So many people loved the thought of having their cum jacked by a harvester. Since I received such a large amount of comments, I decided to write a story about this. (Oh, and someone gave me the perfect ideal for it. He knows who he is.)

The harvest season has begun and for me, I have a craving deeper than I have ever had. Most crave chocolate, coffee, or cigarettes, but not me. I crave the cream of life. That’s just a nice way of saying that I want every drop of cum that I can find. I know, that’s disgusting, but really, is it?

I am what they call a Seductress when it comes to men. My voice can go from the cutest little melody to the most intense bitch to ever slip on a pair of stilettos. Believe me, I have references for the latter, but that’s beside the point. I am here to drain you dry of every drop of cum inside of those tight and throbbing balls. It’s mine after all. I do own it all, but you knew that the moment you touched me. Wait, did I allow you to touch me, or did you find yourself on the receiving end of a sperm theft?

I met him in a bar last night and now, he will forever wander the earth looking for the Goddess who finally made him feel like the man he always wanted to be. Now you know why a drink should never be left unattended at the bar. A quick slip of my Gypsy oil and the fire inside of his loins burned hotter than the sun. Smirking when I found him panting like a dog, all I needed was a curl of my finger to lure him to my private suite. Not even my voice could attract a man like that sweet scent did.

“Come with me,” a whisper called through the wind.

As the door of the spacious room closed with a deafening thud, he dropped to his knees and crawled to the bed. Only stopping to remove his clothing, though he was never asked to do so. You see, a man knows his place when a real woman walks through his soul. Pawing his way to the bed, his body stretched out as he clung to the sides of the mattress. Imaginary binds held him in place as I made my way across the soft carpet. Though padded, the clicks of those 5 inch fuck me heels rattled the silence of the room.

“I want!” I whispered.

Each article of clothing left in my wake, I slithered my way to the bed, ascending from the foot. Fuck, I could smell it. The brewing inside of those growing balls. Dragging my nose up his inner thigh, I buried my face in the soft sac, inhaling deep before a shiver enveloped my entire being. The burning inside of my body growing ravenous I used the tip of my tongue to trace that thick underbelly vein of his cock. Smirking when I reached the top, my mouth hovered over the head of his manhood. Without warning a trail of saliva poured out of my mouth, trickling down the sides. I was fucking salivating for a taste.

“Please,” he screamed.

Laughing, no cackling, my tongue pushed into the perfect slit on the head. French kissing the opening, my eyes never left his for a moment. I was careful not to break the trance. Slurping sounds violently shook the walls of the luxury suite as my mouth moved inch by inch down the soft skin. I wouldn’t stop until my throat held the head captive with pulsating oral muscles. A soft gurgle escaped before slowly moving back to the head of his cock.

“I’m here for the harvest. Don’t move, just feel,” I moaned.

Placing my hands behind my back, fingers lacing, my mouth worked like the suction of a vacuum on his thick member. Gulping, sucking, but never choking, I feverishly forced my lips to leave perfect imprints around the base of his dick. That expensive lipstick was made for a cocksucker like me and I loved leaving my mark. Humming softly, the warmth of my mouth took him over the edge quickly. Screaming as the first bolt of cum hit the back of my throat, his body convulsed in a spasming seizure. He was being harvested and there was nothing that could stop it.

Satisfied for the moment, I pulled back, letting a drop drip from my tongue, “Leave. I have no more need for you.”

As I sat on the edge of the bed pulling the stockings back on, I watched as he scrambled in a haze to leave. Poor thing won’t even remember this tomorrow, but will crave me for the rest of his life.

The post Cum Harvesting: Taking The Essence Of Life appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Note:

In one of my books I write about a girl named Gypsy. Ironic right. It is a mafia based book and this is a piece from the next book. All the names are fiction except one. I thought I would share this piece. Just know, there is graphic sexual content and violence.

The post Gypsy gave it all for the right reasons appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.