“No, still. Don’t move.”

He is 200 pounds of flex and tension, his cock nested in me, lying between my thighs.
“But I want to move…” he gives in to a whine, his brow knit, his cheek against mine.

I’m caressing his ass, one of his hands is in my free hand.

“No, no moving…” I kiss his face, nuzzle his throat. His skin is fair, flush, and warm.

His hips begin to jiggle slightly anyway.

“Yes…” he says in contradiction, and I start to laugh.

“noooo…” I tell him, chiding. And then I do it. Clench. Bear down around his cock, just to let him know I’m there.

“Your pussy is pulsating against my cock” He says, his eyes opening, his breath catching, in a tone of trying to reason and negotiate, through the fog of what my cunt does to him.

I laugh, drop his hand, run fingers over his back, as delicately as I can, as gently as I can.

“Indeed. And still — don’t move.”

A kiss, another. A kiss, wet, against his throat. I can feel his pulse as I drag my lower lip over it.

“Don’t move, please. Just feel it, feel me.”

He moans. I can do this to him.

“Feel me, my cunt, my lips. Rest, relax, drop your weight.”

He does. His weight pins me, but it’s pleasant to know he’s doing as told. What he needs to do, and I know, better than he does. Again, I clench, he moans louder. I whisper…

“You’re not going to go soft like this, don’t worry, I doubt it…”

“and if I do, getting hard again will be NO problem” he mumbles into the pillow, over my shoulder.

I laugh slightly. I close my eyes. Feel him, feeling me. Electric, where we’re connected. Pulsing. Exquisite.

“Ok, NOW move. NOW fuck me.”

I think decadence might be defined by having two disparate cocks in you in a single day.

I think ultraluxe decadence might be both cocks knowing about it and being enthusiastic about you getting pleasure, fucking, bliss, love, and the good shit of life from any source, because both cocks think the world of you.

I think the pinnacle of decadence is your round one being a hairy muscular manly man pounding you in the seam, and your round two being watching a shaved sylphlike prettyboy riding your silicone meat monster. Yee ha.

I imagine you, using one of those external-dildo gags, working it in and out of my spread self, while I have the wahl coil trained on my clit. Your cock is in lockdown, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I get everything, and you, you go without, which makes it even better.

How fortuitous, I have a wahl coil trained on my clit through the thought, hashing it out with you through breathy orgasm. Good start to the day.