Soft.
Her thighs were so soft and porcelain pale as he knelt behind her. The soft flesh of her thighs pressed back against the tense muscles of his own, and he could easily feel the difference. His fingers dug into her flesh. He couldn’t see, but he could imagine, the marks they would leave after all was said and done.
Like her thighs, her lips were soft against his own body, his erection. He pushed the head against her soft folds and curves. More than soft. Warm. Wet. Perfect. His fingers clenched into her soft thighs and the moan that escaped his own soft mouth was harsh as the softness enveloped him.
Hard
He was hard, so hard inside of her. The erect penis, she thought, wasn’t truly hard in the sense of the word. It wasn’t rigid. The skin was still soft, so soft, and warm, but it sheathed the stiffness of his erection as he entered from behind. It was the perfect hardness, anyway, to find her G-spot, to stroke it with the right amount of intensity. Not too much. Not too long that the hardness would make her cry out in pain as he thrusted. No accidental violence to her cervix. His cock was perfectly hard.
So, too, was his body behind her. While hers has none-too-gentle curves, his had naturally defined muscles. She cool feel his abs, above the base of his cock, hard as he strained. His hips, his pelvis were just as hard, the bones sometimes pressing into the milky white flesh of her bottom as he pulled her back against him or pushed himself ever further into her. It was hard to make their bodies one.
Soft
Her breasts were so soft, as white as the rest of her flesh. Gravity pulled them down, rounded orbs with hardened nipples, the likeness of a fresh raspberry. His hands moved from one soft part to another. He anchored himself by reaching forward and cupping her breasts in his hand. Still, he thrusted into her impossible warmth and softness. He didn’t know how such perfection could exist anywhere. She was soft everywhere, perfectly.
Hard
Her arms were tense, one holding the weight of her body, while the other reached between her legs. He was thrusting harder, now, and she she was playing her clit like a fine-tuned instrument. There was no delicate violin, this was like a drum. She needed rhythm and pressure. She pushed hard–until it hurt. The muscles in her arm felt like rocks and lead, both. She was almost there. Almost. Almost. There! Her hips shook aggressively, muscles deep within tensing and contracting unmistakable, grasping the hardness of his cock within her. Jaw locked, she mimicked his own harsh sounds of earlier.
The hard spasms of her orgasm, toned muscles pulling the very life from him. It was so hard so hold back, until he just couldn’t any longer. His tension mounted, and then his body shook, hard, as he responded with his own contractions, his body conversing with hers in a way over which he had no control. His cum cascading in its own violent way. His upper body collapsed against hers, hard.
They both breathed raggedly, too hard for comfort.
Soft
His cock, now soft, remained nestled against her. Legs entwined, tension dissipated. Nothing as frenzied as mere moments before. Everything soft.
