[ Its almost frightening how quickly everything fell into place. Their initial awkwardness had hardly ruined any chances either had to get to where they were now because they both knew this hunger went deeper. Loneliness, coupled with mere happenstance was the gasoline to the wildfire of lust that gripped the both of them. And with such ease, too. Jet was breathless with impatience, mouth dry with want, that desperate little mewl making him shudder beneath her — he can't help but think this is bad because he placed the box of condoms out of immediate reach, so unless he wanted to break the spell over the moment, he'd have to wait. He wants her now, though; it's killing him.
How easy it'd be to pull out his dick and press into that wet heat, so tantalizingly close, yet barred from him. He could fuck her raw and feel bad about it later.
'Later,' he thought. 'Soon.'
Fortunately, he has much more titillating distractions: her breasts, for one; her body undulating, arching giving Jet a glorious view of them oh-so close to spilling out her dress. Insistently he bucks his hips, desperate for the friction to keep him sane. With her hand precariously balanced on the back of his neck, Jet tugs down Hannah's dress to expose one of those perky, perfect tits. He groans, ] That's it, baby… tell me how you feel. [ Before taking that pert and rosy nipple into his mouth, sucking like a man starved. ]
[ He likes when a woman shows how much she wants him; there's nothing shameful about pleasure. Being thirsty only endeared Hannah to him, made him in turn want her to the point of begging, but no need for pleas when he was ready to please. Two fingers rub over her slit, gentle at first to ease her into the sensation, spreading her open nice and slow while his middle finger sharply pushes in — and Jet moans, in spite of himself, sucking all the more harder on the sweet bundle of nerves to keep himself from cumming in his pants like an idiot. He releases her nipple momentarily to lap up his saliva, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the breast he was hyperfixated on. ]
How many fingers do you think you can take, huh? One, two, three? Maybe? You're so damn tight 'round just one… gotta stretch you out, baby. My, fuck, my dick won't fit at this rate.
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How easy it'd be to pull out his dick and press into that wet heat, so tantalizingly close, yet barred from him. He could fuck her raw and feel bad about it later.
'Later,' he thought. 'Soon.'
Fortunately, he has much more titillating distractions: her breasts, for one; her body undulating, arching giving Jet a glorious view of them oh-so close to spilling out her dress. Insistently he bucks his hips, desperate for the friction to keep him sane. With her hand precariously balanced on the back of his neck, Jet tugs down Hannah's dress to expose one of those perky, perfect tits. He groans, ] That's it, baby… tell me how you feel. [ Before taking that pert and rosy nipple into his mouth, sucking like a man starved. ]
[ He likes when a woman shows how much she wants him; there's nothing shameful about pleasure. Being thirsty only endeared Hannah to him, made him in turn want her to the point of begging, but no need for pleas when he was ready to please. Two fingers rub over her slit, gentle at first to ease her into the sensation, spreading her open nice and slow while his middle finger sharply pushes in — and Jet moans, in spite of himself, sucking all the more harder on the sweet bundle of nerves to keep himself from cumming in his pants like an idiot. He releases her nipple momentarily to lap up his saliva, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the breast he was hyperfixated on. ]
How many fingers do you think you can take, huh? One, two, three? Maybe? You're so damn tight 'round just one… gotta stretch you out, baby. My, fuck, my dick won't fit at this rate.