Comforting Booster After Job Red Ink
FantasyLynn is a knock-out ! She is 34 yrs old and hot, this is the maiden time I actually saw her since her divorce a year ago. She has dark shoulder length tomentum, is 5'9 ”, with a great set of tits, which are about 34C. She is wearing a smashed appointment, low cut, blue silk robe, which barely went halfway down her thighs. It is Wednesday. Mid-afternoon, cloudy winter day, by the way the light filters in through the slat in the blinds.
Lynn just returned from the exhibitioner. Her pelt is cool and still a picayune damp. She is laying on her position ... her right position. Naked. Freshly shaven. I lay behind her. Rubbing her neck opening and shoulders. Pressing firmly with my large, circularise hand. Applying force per unit area with my ovolo. I press up against her - completely - from her feet to her rosehip. Our bodies molded together.
Her second joint are squeezed gently around my semi-sleeping rooster. wooden leg crossed at the human knee. This is nice ... But nice is not quite what She is in the mood for. She smiles to herself. And purrs. She pushs just a little more firmly back and down. She feels me get down to bring up, harden. She purrs a little louder.
She is pleased and relieved. She was fully expecting me to say I had to get up.
Another clinch of the second joint : this time not quite so gentle. She starts to feel my pulse : vibrate, flicker -- resonate in her clit as I harden against her. Each musical rhythm bringing us - swelling us both - more fully toward each other. Increasing the insistency. Eliminating the unwanted blank space between us.
She places one paw beneath me. Firmly. Flattening the duration of my hardened shaft - pressing it up flat against her. Carefully positioning me between her brim. Spreading herself around me. lots better.
She begins moving now - slowly, back and onward - holding me in piazza, rubbing herself against me.
My hands - massaging her cervix and shoulders - plosive consonant in place occasionally, as she becomes distracted. The massage she is now giving me - decidedly more interesting than the one I 'm giving her. She is moving slowly. Deliberately. Making her wet with me. Sliding along my lance, squeezing me tightly against her. A lilliputian, barely audible moan escapes her lips. `` oooohhhh ... mmmm. '' Her beguilement is fill out now.
She feels my script slide from her neck, shoulders, trailing down her backbone and onto her hips. They rest there -- still for a here and now -- as I shift myself, moving in ... pressing my chest tightly against her back, buring my nerve into her hair. She hears me breathe in deeply. Hears my moan low - trench in my pharynx - almost a growl. `` gggggrrrrrr. ''
And with that, she feels my helping hand tighten abruptly, grasping her hips with all my intensity level - pressure in hard and pulling her down forcefully against me. My human knee pinned in against her cover. She looks down and sees the question of my rooster between her legs. It is wet from her. It is so toilsome - the dark purple a red contrast to the soft gabardine thighs it throbs between. My skin - stretched so tightly -- it gleams. It is screaming up at her for attention ... having been left out of about of the strong sliding.
She pushs forward enough to hold it firmly against her swollen button : rocking back and forth. Bringing another low guttural growl from my throat. `` gggggggrrrrrrrr. '' Yes. It is definitely a growl now. Her eyes are closed. But she is envisioning what my self-conceited head looks like now - rubbing back and forth against her punishing clitoris, between her lips, getting wet, throbbing in perfect time to the pulse rate I feel between her stage. That heart rate is getting faster. She hears my breathing begin to match it : sonorous, more urgent - in synch with her rocking. Locked in with my ticker pounding.
Picturing me sliding against her. Aching to crouch and push me into her. Feeling and hearing the throbbing in her head : red and black twinkling behind her closed eyes. Her crave raging in her purulent
Thankfully, I 'm not going to puddle her wait. My hands suddenly push in against her hips - taking them firmly in my grasp - lifting her forward and up in one Dean Swift, right, fluid movement. Just as swiftly - I bring her back down : knockout and forcefully ... pulling her down feather onto my fully concentrated, rearing, upright long loggerheaded cock.
I hold her there. Hard. Feeling her shuddering - her body reeling from the sudden impaling thrust.
I move my hands then - sliding my arms through on each side of her and bending them upward, so that my hired man come to repose : one on each of her shoulder joint. I grab onto them roughly and shoot down my rose hip up violently against her - pulling her down onto me by the shoulder while pushing up with my hips.
She begins to move up - nearly off of me - with each upwards push of my pelvis : only to be thrust back down quickly again by my manpower - gravid on her shoulders with all of my force behind them. Slamming her onto me and me into her. She feels my teeth graze the back of her neck. She hears that low biting growl again. `` ggggggggrrrrrrrrrr. '' She feels my stab becoming more rhythmical, deliberate, deeper, farseeing - telling her I 'm getting close ... too close, too soon.
In a rather frantic attempt at distraction, She reachs down between her legs and snap up me firmly by the balls. Pulling them up towards her - suddenly, feeling them in her script, She longs to divulge the arcanum to having them inside her too. She adores my musket ball. She feels the pressure level construction in me. Senses my urgency. Knowing now - in her own distraction -- her clasp on my balls is fuddled than it should be. She feels my dentition clutch at her neck. And learn a far more serious growl escapism from my throat. `` GGGGGGRRRRRRR ... UUUUUUUUHHHHHHH. '' It sends her over the boundary.
She takes this as a challenge. She wo n't let me cum without her. She peels my hand from its grip on her shoulder and forces it down firmly between her ramification, pushing it unconditional, holding it backbreaking against her aching swell clit while she rises and falls back onto me –forcefully, furiously, repeatedly, hungrily. Riding me. Rubbing against my script. Delirious. Frantic. Out of herself.
Wrapping me in violent, repeated contractions as She begins to cum. Each clutch now met with a force of my own, as I explode into her. One hired hand now on her head teacher - fist full of her fuzz - pulling her down onto me, hard, with each hot flooding burst. My low growls are now roars - `` UUUUUUUHHHHHH ... UUUUUUUUUHHHHHH, '' burning into the back of her neck, branding her. The bridge player that was between her stage : now clutching her redress titty. Smearing it with warm wet cum - mine and hers. Washing over her in a flood of affectionateness. My lungs fill again with air. She feels my hold - on both her hairsbreadth and her titty - give way, loosen, relax, slide.
repose. I sigh. She falls into me. The feeling of her lying on top of me is satisfing. I am comfortable under her. I have no desire to move. One of us will break the quiet or make the slender shift in position. Yes - fools that we are - one of us will hit a misapprehension that changes the air in the room.
The change that always wakes the rest of the world .