Midnight Delight with My Crème de la Crème
reverendhornibastard
Depraved Deacon of Degeneracy
In many ways, the pinnacle of my sexual life was not one that you would expect, particularly considering some of the more outlandish sexual experiences I have enjoyed in my years.
It was not:
a) Any of the numerous, profoundly sticky sexual escapades I enjoyed with Mrs. Hornibastard III and her girlfriends;
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b) Mrs. Hornibastard II’s and my astounding, overnight, His and Hers “Anything Goes” Asian Massage +++
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c) Anything that I did or that was done to me in a VIP room in any strip club in the world by some of the hottest looking women in the inner solar system.
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My peak sexual experience was, in fact, nothing more than a spontaneous, lengthy, afternoon roll in the hay with Mrs. Hornibastard III, my Crème de la Crème, while we were staying at a resort near Sedona, Arizona.
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There were no others involved. We had no spectators. Neither of us were drunk or high. We didn’t use toys or misuse grapes, popsicles or ice cubes.
It was just the two of us, repeatedly using and abusing each other, and an overflowing of passion such as I have never experienced before or since.
Because I could not fall back to sleep last night with this memory reverberating so loudly inside my skull, I was left with no choice but to hop on top of my crème de la crème and attempt to re-live that wonderful afternoon in Sedona.
It was fabulous last night, but Sedona is still my peak sexual experience.
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