A real call to fuck
I do not know who guides the other, but it turns out that I feel your hands go up along my neck and caress the bottom of my hair, while my arms gently wrap around the waist. Our eyes are fixed, and our faces inexorably get closer until our lips are welded and our languages mingle in a languid kiss imprinted with intense passion.
It’s you who guides the maneuver. One of your hand is snuck under my jeans and caress my buttocks, while the other searches my chest from underneath my shirt. I am caught off guard, and must make a great effort to get back on my feet and become more enterprising. My hands end up taking hold of your rump that I know how exciting to have him mater many times.
After a hearty massage, I finally grab them vigorously before lifting you up. Your arms are wrapped around my neck, your legs are tied behind my back. I carry you and take you where you come from, in the ladies’ room.
Oh Ida, what’s happening to us?
I leave you standing on the bowl and then forsake you for a moment to close the door. I turn around and discover your small tits pointing through your tank top, right in front of my eyes.
Now, the excitement conveyed by this situation, both unprecedented and unexpected, has uninhibited any restraint on my part. I grab hold of your breasts without waiting. You do not have a bra. That’s wonderful. Your nipples point through the fabric, and I hasten to tickle the tip of my tongue, before swallowing my mouth.
Thinking of what could imagine your husband and wife, and our friends remained on the terrace, discovering your wet suit of saliva when we return, I stop. Your eyes give me a disappointed look, but you end up understanding, and it is you who impatiently removes the cotton that separates us.
Oh Ida, what I want!
My mouth is quick to swallow, like a sucker, one of your tits. The intoxication of the moment takes me into an increasingly bestial frenzy. My hands are running through your body.
After the back and hips, your cock is lavishly caressed through your jeans. Your arms, firmly entwined on my neck, end up slipping under my shirt, and end up slipping it from the top of my body. Our bare torsos are now glued. I feel the tip of your breasts point my skin.
Oh Ida, how horny you are!
The madness of our senses makes me forget some passage. I come back to a kind of reality when I find you sitting on the toilet, my tail between your lips. My pants are on my ankles, and your mouth swallows my sex bandaged block. Looking at me, you alternate the worst tortures that a man can suffer. Long licking along the penis, swallowing balls and swallowing the penis to the deepest of your throat.
Feeling my sap ready to spring, I stop you, kneel between your thighs, unbutton your jeans and remove it. I finally discover the fruit of my desire. Your pussy is beautiful. The pubis cleanly carved, leaving some poiles in “Metro ticket”, and the vulva perfectly shaved, you are sublime eroticism. A real call to fuck.
I lean and buried my face against your sex. I’m trying to lick you the edge of your fruit of love, before approaching my tongue on your little button. I see him getting fat, getting out of his door, asking that we take care of him. I tickle it, I suck it, you shudder, you moan.
I go down my tongue along your sexual lips. One-to-one I spread them. I discover your well of love. He is shining with pleasure, wet with excitement. My index finger joins my tongue and snaps into you. You enjoy. Your body is tetanized, jolted. Your eyes open and you look at me. Happy.
Oh Ida, how good we are!
My manhood is at its best. I approach your cave and rubs it long in the hollow of your lips dripping with desire. Your eyes call me. Your sexual appetite gives me wings.
I am getting deeper. I feel like your pussy sucks me. It’s so sweet and so wet. I am in paradise. I advance. Impatient you press my buttocks. I refuse your eagerness. I slide. I feel the heartbeat of your vagina against my cock. I feel that at any moment I can burst. I restrain myself … I am in abutment.
Oh Ida, how deep you are!
Your mouth is wide open, your bulging eyes look at the ceiling. You want to shout your pleasure, but you can not do it anymore. You enjoy again, clawing your forearms with your forearms. You cling to me the air disenchanted by all the enjoyment that inhabits you. I start going back and forth in you.
First slowly, then more and more vigorously.
Oh Ida, let me slide well!
From below the knees, I lift you up. We are always plugged. I plate you against the wall and continues to boost your pit of the delights of my cock.