I Shouted For The Pleasure To Feel The Pressure...

Touch yourself. Imagine it’s you ­ imagine how it would feel, me squeezing your aching cock with my wet pussy. Matt is talking but I’m not listening. I climb off and turn round to face the other way on hands and knees. He doesn’t need an invite. I feel him behind me, his hands on my hips and then once again I’m so full. My head down, my eyes shut. Feeling the intensity rising and rising. Then I take a deep breath, lift up my head and open my eyes. I’m looking right at you. See me. Please, see me. Is that movement in the room over the street? Did the curtains twitch. I’m moaning loudly now ­ getting close ­ but it’s because I know you’re there. You’re with me ­ you hand on your cock, moving so fast. We’re together. My face shows my pleading. I feel you. I cum ­ hard ­ gasping. Matt, bless, is right behind me. He’s actually a great lover. I tell him this as I kiss him gently goodnight at the door. Yes, I’m sure I don’t want to meet again. Thank you for a wonderful evening. I hope you. "Looks like we are in for a bumpy night" said Matt.He had no idea."Have a seat and I'll put on the coffee" Jenna said as she disappeared into the kitchen."This is a nice place you have here." Thanks! It's small, but its home to me."Jenna emerged a couple minutes later with a mug of coffee for Matt, a glass of wine for herself. "Wine?" said Matt."I can't drink coffee this late or I'll be up all night!"The storm was worsening, thunder shook the windows and the lights flickered intermittently. Jenna got up and lit some candles."Better safe than sorry" she said as she rejoined Matt on the couch."Jen, you're shivering." Yes, my feet got pretty soaked coming in, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go change into warmer clothes."Alone in her room, Jenna thought to herself as that she needed to do something to let Matt know she wanted to take this to the next level. She stripped of all her clothes and slipped into a fuzzy robe."Well don't you look cozy" chuckled Matt.Jenna sat down next to him.
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