Few beers later, Linda craved for music, so she went inside and gave a command to the player that begun playing some songs. I followed her in a slow catwalk, drink in hand. Linda jumped around, her hair flying in the air, smile periodically unveiling in the blonde locks.
Innocent stumble brought her in my arms, her sparkling eyes fixed on me. She prompted up and kissed me – her military girl. Smile soon followed the action, I saw no regret on her face. My arm went around her waist, path led us to the bedroom. A shove flattened her on the martres, then my hands glided up her knees and stopped at the luscious thighs. She helped me pull her pants off.
– June Lee can eat her heart out. – Linda said giggling, then I moved my hair and pulled her at the edge of the bed.
I got down to my knees, her hand guided my head in between her legs that I willingly brough closer. In a swift move, her thong was displaced. My hands inspected the surface of her skin, running up and down, then they enveloped the meat of her ass.
She watched me holding her lower compartment like a watermelon and taking a taste. Her muscles tensed for a second, a reaction from my caressening the red bead. She sucked in my tongue with her vagina more than I was trying to slit it in. A dirty french kiss lasted for a good minute in my effort to go deeper, roll my tongue, contract it, stretch it and undulate it.
She moaned, twitched her legs, behaved like possessed with the fingers running through her hair, biting her lips.
I introduced her with my three fingers, pivoted her over the edge of a bed and begun irritating the upper wall of her vulva. My tongue stayed occupied with the hot spot, a bead I played with in a manner of a dog drinking water. I felt her legs close holding me static and a grab of hair that forbade me to pull away.
Pace of my fingers throbbing haven’t stopped until I felt the secretion coming in, a wave of liquid now running down the corners on my mouth, splassing my sweater. She used a pillow to silence a scream and orgazmically shook on the bed making the whole thing dance in the pace of the beat from a player.
She opened her legs and I got to my feet. There was no movement on the bed, as she lost power to do anything. She remained static, her head on the pillow, wicked locks of hair covering her sleepy face, so I covered her with a blanket and left the room.
You asked, I delivered. Blame my readers for the wicked minds. I freakin’ love you lot.