The Move Made Her Wet

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The move made her wet.

The quick thrust pushed her into the brick building, and bunches of her skirt rose like my hardening cock to the pressure boiling in my loins.

It happened just after the movie and before we trotted hand in hand to her place. I banked on her quiet demeanor throughout the night as something like a fronting advertisement for kinky freak: underneath that librarian getup, it was nothing more than deviant sin waiting for temptation, and I wanted to light the fuse.

So, with slight simplicity, I tugged her into the waiting alley and pushed against the wall.

Mind you, it lacked creativity, and most importantly romance. But with the budding passion in her eyes screaming from dinner to the movie to the now, for something more than a kiss goodbye, I had to act upon the urges of the moment.

She said nothing as she slipped me her sly deviled smile. The slight pause and her dark eyes fleeted her slight apprehension. It wasn’t till her mouth rounded so evenly open faced, that she bit into me like a juicy fruit picked fresh off the tree; we soon dirty danced our way in the dark alley — she dry humped me like a dancer grinding for the next bill you can pop into Escort Bayan Bahçeşehir her garter, and the searing pain rubbed into my crotch like a raw knee burn on a new rug.

As well harder against the wall, we clutched to each others sex as though our whole fuck relied on it. And when we kissed, it meant forever, or until morning. Yeah, she did it so good, biting and nibbling within the moment of that deep ended feeling as though she hungered for the next rapture. And I returned the favor tasting her candy, and sucking out her lips till the sweet color paled from the overbearing move. The passion danced our wet tongues round and about our mouths like we were licking our last breaths from it.

And suddenly, the soft reaches of her body touched my fleeting hands; I couldn’t help but cop a feel as my fingers slipped past her innocence, and straight into the v-line of her thong. It was so invitingly warm to rush my fingers around her fresh trims of her bush and dew drops, and nub the playful push of her clit protruding outward.

The move made her wet.

She downed her head, throwing it back quickly as the pulse electrified her body into quick İstanbul Escort jabbing sensations. I fiddled the flesh, and she bent to take it so.

So much to the point I never knew her hands were slinking down to my jeans and clutching my harden member for a few jerks of enjoyment. She gripped my cock again and again; she wrapped it to a hard, firm tug and with it, the bubble yum of precum surfaced out from the slit opening of the bloated head, and dripped so wonderfully into the sticky mess of her two hands.

I couldn’t deny both our feelings toward the oversexed evening. I only knew from the moment my dick entered into the wet reign of her pussy, we would fuck, and I would bust a nut.

It started with the inherent pull of her muscles on my cock; it turned from friendly to fierce as I felt the drumming pound of my dick slice her pussy, the kiss milking my cock into her wet folds. The more I pumped, the more it sucked me into her deeper, and to the hilt of the action. The bare brick cut into her skin, but the pain brought pleasure when she clawed her response in the form of jagged lines on the skin of my back. Yet, her gentle insides provided a Escort İstanbul motherly massage to the boiling cum from my sack — she simply swallowed it whole, and embraced it as though it was her own deviant toy.

With her vocal commands mixed into the city stream, she continued her pussy assault, fucking me back and doing those sexual womanly things with wanton approval; she urged me to cum, and to cum deep and hard into her pussy, to make her my new slut and to make me have her take it as though she needed very badly.

The words rung in my jumbled mind, and all I could think was to let her have her way, and let me let loose, the torrent of cum to ride the wave of pleasure and splash her cool and hot. And with her thighs tight around my waist she couldn’t wait, and she gush my balls.

I dream for a moment I’m sinking poolside as a lover rides me, and the action ripples the water into discontent. I imagine her, sun splashed, her hair a wet mess as my cock lets go, and the sudden rush of the moment causes me a moment to black out…

And then I’m back cumming, releasing it like a broken pipe of cannons shooting my sperm as it rides the edge of my shaft. I’m biting into her shoulder and I can’t stop the flow throbbing riverside into the deep channels of her pussy.

Yes, it was a fuck that lacked creativity and romance, but as the last moan slipped from her mouth, and my cock popped from her tight grip, she simply threw me that shit-look of a horned devil: the move definitely made her wet.

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