I was an iron sword. She was a silk sheath. It was electric.I reached for her hips. It was an instinct that had worked last night in my dream. I had brought Lara atop me, transfixed by those naked breasts. And to keep her there, I had used the strength of my arms to give Lara a ride that left her crying in climax.In real life, this was the only position open to me. I began to move Angie up and down on my cock, slowly at first and then with increasing fever. Her fingernails dug into my arms as her helplessness grew. I was an animal, doing with my arms what most men did with the muscles of their legs.Her mouth froze in a long, drawn-out vowel, an "uh" of surprise, the sound itself a vibrato that danced in rhythm with frenzied impalement. But she wasn't completely helpless. As her body began to tremble again, as the muscles in her thighs vibrated against me once more, she tightened herself."Angie." It was a whisper of hope, hope that I could take her where I knew that she would soon be. She knew extended foreplay was useless with the lad, years of experience had taught her that. He was hard and ready – self administration had been applied, encouraged by him sniffing the gusset of the previous days knickers she’d secreted to him. She disturbed both of their minimal explorations and discarded her jeans, then slid alongside Robin. Immediately he climbed aboard between her legs, Maddy thanking Rupert for kitting his son out with nothing but the best camping equipment and luckily a double bag.Ronnie, big titted, they sagged to her waist when unfettered, was puffing as she descended the cellar stairs to ostensibly help Syd the landlord change a barrel of beer. Her hip was playing up again, but it was worth it – at seventy years old, she was still a good fuck, knew her stuff, and well known in the village even today and amongst the males of all ages and occasionally, very occasionally young girls, as Sixpenny. When her and her now deceased husband Errol had arrived in the.
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