Hope – My Dissolute Life

Making a meal of Hope

I find my head unexpectedly between Hope’s thick, muscular thighs.

Soon, I will be with Hope. I can’t fucking wait.

And now? Hope does come for me.

Hope comes to me (and, in part 2, will come for me….)

Hope is on her way. The anticipation – and the uncertainty – is killing me.

Hope returns, and my cock wakes up. Summary: I won’t get to fuck her pretty face any time soon. But I did (and you may) hear her come for me.

I’m finding it challenging to write. My internal censor has been very active lately.

Hope comes for me. It’s delicious.

Hope is delicious, but I’m afraid I may have failed to give her enough of what she needed to keep her giving me what I need.

I like being a part of someone’s rapturous joy. I simply will not participate in manifest suffering, if I possibly can avoid it.