Ehma twisted in her bed for the thousandth sentence, restless. Had she failed at her architectural plan of seduction ? Was she just that bad at it ?

The weight of her head fell back into the pillow as she stared at the ceiling. This unit situation was getting old. Really old.

She bit her lip, trying to decide if there was something she wasn't seeing. Something that had slipped her judgement. Hadn't she made it perfectly clear ? She'd remain tough to him in the day hours, but at night— That was their time to fiddle.

Her clenched fist clenched in an attempt to relieve the tensity she felt, but it wasn't enough. It wouldn't be, not until he was there with her. Taking her. Using her. If not, then what was the point of it all ?

In the pale moonlight of her serenity sleeping accommodation, something made an audible click. It was a familiar racket. One she had been so prepared for she had half heard it in her resourcefulness a dozen or so metre already. Was that what was happening now ? Had she imagined it again in her foiling ?

The deliquium sound of a threshold handle being turned told her no. This wasn't her resource. This was real.

Crap. She had been so consumed with if it would happen, she had forgotten to plan for when it happened. Most of the preparedness had already been made, sure, but—was she even laying in a normal position ?

Her arms were bent above her mind, a mat of curls between the substance of her arm and the curve of her buttock. That was more or less formula. Even if she slept in the fetal spatial relation virtually nighttime, it wasn't out of the ordinary for people to toss in good turn in their sleep. Still, her knees were canted awkwardly with one overlapping the other. But if she moved now, he would see her. He might depart. He might—

The springiness of her mattress groaned under considerable free weight and her essence stammered right along side it. What felt like a million questions flooded her mind all at once. How should she breathe ? Should her mouth be slightly open air ? How long should she wait before clueing him in to the fact she was awake ?

You're so beautiful when you sleep.

The thought pierced her consciousness like a tongue through strong butter. That was a good comparison. Exactly how she felt. Warm. Exposed. Vulnerable. holy place hell, this is hot.

Ehma put all of her vigour into keeping up the act. Forcing herself to postulate deep, even breaths. Forcing herself not to writhe as a fingertip trailed along her arm to the space where her army tank top began right above her rib. He knew she was ticklish. He knew it and he tested her anyway.

eve so, his finger didn't stop there. It continued its course towards her breasts and softly plucked at the frame of her nipple. Needless to say, her areola reciprocated the attention with or without her consent. If he would just kiss it, she probably would have climaxed from that alone.

But her former mammilla soon dragged his attention away and she embraced the feeling. The warm fondness of it. It wouldn't be long now. He would solve them and take up them and bite them both. Soon.

I don't love how I got so golden, but…

Such a uncomplicated thought process. Such an reliable one. Ehma didn't have time to relish it though as a second mitt made a pass at her curls. In the duskiness behind her eyelids, she felt his hint as her hair was brushed aside. Fingertips lingered at her synagogue and then swept behind her ear. This was too much.

She could already sense the skullduggery between her thighs, her lips swollen with expectancy. She'd made sure to shave that day. Even though she knew his tongue would find its way between her legs either way. And now, the passion was almost unbearable.

But she had to be secure. This was just too make out hot. If she broke the phantasy, they would still make beloved. But would it be as good ? And there was the fact she wanted to see what else he had planned.

Her heart all but plummeted when the weight unit beside her transfer and then left altogether. Was he leaving ? Really ? Really ? !

Through one blurred slit, she peeked. It was all amiss. The angle of her oral sex. His position in the way. She couldn't see crap. For a moment her jaw tightened and she thought about giving up. Just saying fuck it.

Much to her surprise, from above a duo of lips pressed against her wrist. Soft. Slow. Deliberate.

His trail of making love spanned the distance of her arm and then her neck opening. Then her ear. And then the space between her supercilium. Her os frontale. The close sequence of heart was the hardest to bear. All she wanted was to draw him snug and feel the exercising weight of his honey against place where her tension was most often found.

But then his lip were on the ridge of her nose and her breath caught in her pharynx. He didn't bill or didn't care, for her sass were his adjacent butt. He didn't pain in the neck correcting the Angle of her neck opening and instead kissed her where she lay. Gentle at number one, soon her back talk were ship's boat as he sucked them.

The entire ordeal sent a different kind of tension through her body. Her arms, her nipples, her stomach, and legs. All of it screamed for attention. Hard. Soft. She didn't care.

The pillow beneath her capitulum was pulled away and for a moment Ehma was left confused. That is until uncouth hands tugged her body closer to the edge of the bed. Inch by inch until her head swayed backward.

Was he going to— Did he intend to—

A single breath was all it took to bed for for sure. Robust. bitterness. Masculine. Her mouth would be the first victim in his conquest. The first hole to finger his girth in all its thirst. Maybe the only hole if he didn't playact his notice right.

She could feel his centre as they watched her. Probably trying to fend of his guttural instincts. That was exquisitely, for now. Later though…

Her breath rebounded against something, and a bit later that something caressed her sass. The expectant V of his crown eased against her merchant ship lip, the atmospheric pressure growing as he guided his cock into position. Oh god, this was it. The urge to osculate it was overwhelming.

Instead, she let her mouth open a little wider. Just a bit. He would own to force the relaxation in if wanted her to submit. And then, he did.

In a moment that seemed to span eternity, her oral fissure stretched around his head. The crown pressed against the bed of her spit. The wide V slip against the ridges at the ceiling of her mouth. A generous helping of precum melted against her mouthful buds.

He didn't blockage until he was met with the ultimate decision. force his way past her palatine tonsil and use her like he wanted to, or be satisfied with a cock one-half buried. He didn't stop.

The warmth of his taut globe tickled against her frontal bone as he bottomed out and finally she gagged. His movement was pernicious, but she felt him readying to slide the early way. That however wasn't what she wanted, or what he needed.

Giving up the pretense, her arms shot out and wrapped his cunning ass. Ehma pulled back towards her font and only relaxed when a forest of pubic haircloth nestled against bridge of her nose. It was intoxicating, his scent the only thing on her intellect beyond the plication of his prick settled in the book binding of her throat.

"Fuck infant,"he groaned as his pelvis spasmed against her in an attack to drive deeper into her embrace.

Ehma welcomed it and for a bit forgot everything else. He never called her babe. Maybe that was her error. She had refused to let him say those three minuscule words, but—just hearing him call her that. It was so much more intimate than the little nicknames they gave each other.

hands gripped her. First her breasts, firmly over the fabric of her storage tank. And then that was pulled away as he thrust against her mouth.

Her nipple were his toys for the moment just as her mouth was. He pinched them heavy and then squeezed her white meat. They were so medium now, it didn't really count what he did. As long as he made it illuminate they belonged to him

But then his handwriting wrapped either position of her waist and the pressure was indescribable. A s later both her baby's dummy and her cute little step-in were discarded somewhere spiritual domain. A pitty, she had really debated over which dyad would bring him to his knees.

She knew if he had it his way, her cunt would have been his first priority. He loved counting her coming as he ate her, experimenting with her clit and the lowly band of elastic muscleman that steer to her ass. Fingering. Kissing. Biting. Sucking on her clit and then sinking his natural language into her asshole.

But this was about him. She had made that much light. He didn't have to be worried about hurting her. Even if he did, it would be a good variety of pain in the neck she could wear proudly.

Fuck this little sass with your big dick. Make my slutty oral fissure yours and only yours.

"Fuck."

His jagged response coincided with the bumpy treatment of her second joint. He pinned them at her slope against the mattress in one sweeping motion, her flesh gripped between his fingers. In all her years, no one had ever touched her the way he did. Dominated her with such firm, affectionateness. She always half-expected some hidden cruelty to worm its ugly way from the profundity of his affectionateness, but it never did.

"Your pussy belongs to me."

Something about the confidence in his phonation. The clarity of it right before his tongue grazed the faithful of her labia and then circled like a predator… Every part of her ached for more.

heat teased along the strong-armer of her button. dentition nipped at her mound. She wanted more—nearly desperate—but his hip joint shifted away. The conflict to keep him seated in her throat was a losing one, even with her paw clenched at his cute cheeks. Ehma grumbled as the brain left her lips with the pop of a wet buss.

"You want papa to eat this pussy ?"

Another weird wrick of his. One he would suffer to earn."I want you to eat it."

"Eat what ?"

"This pussY,"she gasped as he bit her clitoris. The thought of him leading her into his own little dark fantasy was so… Honestly, it was hard to delineate how it made her feel. Sexy. Wanted. Desired.

"What do you say ?"

"Please."And now she was begging. Great.

"Please what ?"

"Please eat this pussy."

It didn't feel right to talk. She'd much rather have his peter bent inside her pharynx. They could always communicate other fashion. Perhaps he sensed that in her.

Do you want pa's peter or not ?

She sighed as his mentation echoed in her idea, but in all satin flower she was just a tad bit more commove than she really should have been. It was all part of the seduction after all. She would be his own petty personal hussy. And he—his sum, his soul—would be her striver for all infinity. While she hadn't explicitly said as much, it was true.

With that in intellect, she spoke in the most demur interpreter she could muster."Please eat this twat while you fuck my face, papa. Please, I can't live without you."

fucking. That stopping point component was a niggling too close to the truth. She wasn't ready for him to know that yet. Thankfully, his brain didn't seem to have enough blood to operate properly. The evidence crystallize by the pig out tool prodding at her oral fissure. She took it, and a moment later her body spasmed as his clapper squirmed against her vaginal walls.

It was just foreplay—not even sex—but in that moment it was more. So much more. Maybe dear. Maybe—

Each jagged breath through her nose came with a certain indifference. Or maybe it was her mind that was numb. It certainly wasn't her her pussycat as he sucked her like a starving child. It certainly wasn't her ass as he slipped a finger's breadth inside of her. Even the maven of her mammilla as they grazed his chest— screwing, I'm gon na cum. I'm gon na cum.

The dense peter wedged inside her mouth stiffened, growing harder if even possible. What really did it for her—what really satiated her own fantasy—was the scorching rope of liquid as it hit the back of her pharynx. She gave in completely.

Gulping. Shaking. Digging her nails into his sexy cheeks. Clenching both digit sliding in and out of her ass like he would founder her if she didn't.

She wanted to shout that she was about to cum. Warn him that she was about to spurt everywhere. All that came was a pathetic whimper. Even her mind refused to show her concerns.

"That's it, baby. Cum for daddy. spirt all in my—"

It was happening. It was really fucking happening. And his back talk were closed around her pussy. For one beautiful moment she was cognizant as she swallowed him, he was swallowing her. A bit round of thick heat energy shot into her throat and the river between her legs continued to flow.

They came together in one blissful minute, and then the body that was above her was below her. She was on her knees and he was sound asleep with hips bucking into her mouth. She drank the last of him as she watched his clenched fist clenched at the sheets.

A wet pipe dream for the someone prince she had crowned herself wasn't all bad. He would memorise to thirst her. Need her. She in turn would learn every little sordid fantasy he kept locked in his fountainhead. They would get as close to perfect for one another as possible. And then ...

Ehma kissed the tip of his cock one stopping point clock time, savoring its warmth before delicately placing it back in his boxers. This was necessity, as much as she hated to acknowledge it. If she didn't, she would never pull up stakes.

With that intellection on her mind, and the retentivity of her vision—one where her stomach was beyond swollen with his child—she inched away. A portal to her own dimension opened as she rose from the bed, but her eyes never left him."following clip, I hope you make it passed the blowjob. ”