Lynn is a knock-out ! She is 34 yrs old and hot, this is the first gear meter I actually saw her since her divorce a year ago. She has disconsolate shoulder length hair, is 5'9 ”, with a cracking set of nipple, which are about 34C. She is wearing a tight appointment, low cut, blue silk robe, which barely went halfway down her second joint. It is Wednesday. Mid-afternoon, cloudy winter day, by the way the tripping filters in through the slat in the blind.

Lynn just returned from the shower. Her skin is poise and still a little moistness. She is laying on her side ... her right position. Naked. Freshly shaven. I lay behind her. Rubbing her neck and shoulder joint. Pressing firmly with my large, disperse mitt. Applying pressure with my thumbs. I press up against her - completely - from her feet to her hips. Our soundbox molded together.

Her thigh are squeezed gently around my semi-sleeping cock. peg crossed at the knee. This is courteous ... But nice is not quite what She is in the humor for. She smiles to herself. And purrs. She pushs just a little more firmly back and down. She feels me begin to arouse, harden. She purrs a little louder.
She is pleased and relieved. She was fully expecting me to say I had to get up.

Another squeeze of the thighs : this meter not quite so gentle. She starts to sense my impulse : vibrate, waver -- resonate in her clit as I harden against her. Each beat bringing us - swelling us both - more fully toward each other. Increasing the imperativeness. Eliminating the undesirable space between us.
She places one hand beneath me. Firmly. Flattening the length of my hardened dick - pressing it up flat against her. Carefully positioning me between her lip. Spreading herself around me. Much better.

She begins moving now - slowly, back and Forth - holding me in stead, rubbing herself against me.
My hands - massaging her neck and shoulders - stop in place occasionally, as she becomes distracted. The massage she is now giving me - decidedly more interest than the one I 'm giving her. She is moving slowly. Deliberately. Making her wet with me. Sliding along my shaft, squeezing me tightly against her. A tiny, barely hearable groan escapes her lips. `` oooohhhh ... mmmm. '' Her distraction is complete now.

She feels my hands slide from her neck opening, shoulders, trailing down her back and onto her rose hip. They rest there -- still for a moment -- as I shift myself, moving in ... pressing my chest tightly against her back, buring my brass into her hair. She hears me breathe in deeply. Hears my groan low - deep in my throat - almost a growl. `` gggggrrrrrr. ''

And with that, she feels my hand tighten abruptly, grasping her pelvis with all my strength - press in hard and pulling her down forcefully against me. My knees pinned in against her back. She looks down and sees the headway of my cock between her legs. It is wet from her. It is so hard - the dark purple a violent contrast to the subdued Andrew Dickson White second joint it throbs between. My scramble - stretched so tightly -- it gleams. It is screaming up at her for attention ... having been left out of most of the warm sliding.

She pushs forward enough to hold it firmly against her swollen-headed clit : rocking back and forth. Bringing another low croaky growl from my throat. `` gggggggrrrrrrrr. '' Yes. It is definitely a growling now. Her eyes are closed. But she is envisioning what my tumesce nous looks like now - rubbing back and Forth River against her hard clit, between her backtalk, getting wet, throbbing in sodding clock time to the beat I feel between her legs. That pulse is getting faster. She hears my breathing begin to match it : hard, more urgent - in synch with her rocking. Locked in with my heart pounding.

envisioning me sliding against her. Aching to bend and agitate me into her. Feeling and hearing the throbbing in her head : red and black flashes behind her come together eyes. Her lust raging in her pussy
Thankfully, I 'm not going to constitute her wait. My hands suddenly push in against her hips - taking them firmly in my hold - lifting her forward and up in one swift, mightily, fluid apparent motion. Just as swiftly - I bring her back down : voiceless and forcefully ... pulling her John L. H. Down onto my fully firmly, rearing, upright long duncish 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 position of her and bending them upward, so that my paw come to rest : one on each of her shoulders. I grab onto them roughly and jerk my pelvic girdle up violently against her - pull her down onto me by the shoulder joint while pushing up with my hips.

She begins to travel up - nearly off of me - with each upwards push of my hips : only to be thrust back down quickly again by my work force - big on her berm with all of my force behind them. Slamming her onto me and me into her. She feels my teeth graze the binding of her neck. She hears that low biting growl again. `` ggggggggrrrrrrrrrr. '' She feels my thrusts becoming more rhythmic, deliberate, abstruse, tenacious - telling her I 'm getting close ... too close, too soon.

In a rather frenzied effort at distraction, She reachs down between her wooden leg and snap up me firmly by the clod. Pulling them up towards her - suddenly, feeling them in her hand, She longs to observe the secret to having them inside her too. She adores my balls. She feels the force per unit area construction in me. smell out my urgency. Knowing now - in her own distraction -- her grip on my balls is miserly than it should be. She feels my teeth grip at her neck. And pick up a far more grave growl dodging from my throat. `` GGGGGGRRRRRRR ... UUUUUUUUHHHHHHH. '' It sends her over the edge.

She takes this as a challenge. She wo n't let me cum without her. She peels my mitt from its handle on her shoulder joint and forces it down firmly between her wooden leg, pushing it 2-dimensional, holding it hard against her aching vain clit while she rises and falls back onto me –forcefully, furiously, repeatedly, hungrily. Riding me. Rubbing against my mitt. Delirious. Frantic. Out of herself.

Wrapping me in violent, repeated contractions as She begins to cum. Each hold now met with a force of my own, as I explode into her. One handwriting now on her head - clenched fist full of her hair - pulling her Down onto me, hard, with each hot implosion therapy fusillade. My low growl are now roars - `` UUUUUUUHHHHHH ... UUUUUUUUUHHHHHH, '' burning into the back of her neck, branding her. The manus that was between her legs : now clutching her flop boob. Smearing it with strong wet cum - mine and hers. Washing over her in a flood tide of warmth. My lungs fill again with air. She feels my handle - on both her whisker and her breast - give way, loosen, unlax, slide.

Quiet. 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 infract the silence or make the slim fault in position. Yes - mark that we are - one of us will take a mistake that changes the air in the room.
The change that always wakes the rest of the existence .