HIPS - M-rated

He loves every single thing about her, and if one were to ask, his automatic answer is that he's a boob guy, and hers are absolutely fantastic. Full, round and heavy in his hands, her nipples a beautiful shade of pink and in perfect contrast to her ivory white skin.

But there's another part of her body that he simply adores, her hips. A seemingly innocent answer, but he's the only one who gets to see them bare on a daily basis now.

He loves the curve and loves how firm yet soft they are. Loves how it seems they're made for his hands to hold onto as he makes love to her.

Sliding into her as he takes her from behind, his fingers digging into her skin as she holds her there - her body angled down on the bed as he watches her take his entire length upon every thrust.

He loves how she always takes his hands in hers, bringing both of them to her hips as she kisses him just before she sinks down on his cock. How she stills for a moment and rolls them just so as she stretches around him, and how she lets him guide her movements when she starts to ride him.

Helping her move up and down, slowly feeling her walls flutter around his length, losing the warmth whenever she lifts herself and feeling complete bliss in the heat of her wet core as she slides back down until she finds her rhythm. That's when his hands move to her breasts, his lips meeting the delicate skin of her nipple whenever she's close enough for him to take the pert bud into his mouth.

Her movements always become smaller after that, but faster, more demanding in the way she rolls her hips against his own - in search of some added friction, and he gladly brings his hands back to their designated spot, one sliding just a bit down to rub her clit between them.

He loves the way her hips meet his every thrust as he takes her on the table, the sink, the counter or any other flat surface in their presence, and he loves how her hips buck up every time he fucks her with his mouth, his tongue dragging up over her slit as she spreads her wide with his hands until he reaches her clit. Kissing it softly, then circling it once, twice until he has her moaning his name, her hips writhing beneath his face, and when he closes his lips around the bundle of nerves, sucking until she comes, her hips lifting off of the bed it feels like winning. Her motion is the trophy he's after.

It's also the one spot on her body he usually leaves behind a mark, both consciously as he kisses her skin and drags his teeth over her hip bone and unconsciously when they let themselves go a little too hard, and her hips wear his fingerprints for days to come.

She's never complained about it once; in fact, he thinks he's seen her grinning at them in the mirror once, and he thinks they might be her trophies.