She can see the hairs stand in the wake. The friction of his skin, burns in her mind and teases at the whorls on the tips of her fingers. She feels her way confidently, unhurried, but hungrily, up the inside of his thigh to his sex, knowing how he'll respond to her touch, watching her desire come to life in her palm.� She wraps her hand around him and feels him growing bolder to her play. His flesh tightens and thrums, filling up her grasp.� She loosens her grip to encompass him.� Hotter it feels, than she recalls and prouder it grows,� each inquisitive rub rewarding her efforts with the promise of something, mystical. He is hard and tight and she can feel his blood pulse in the flesh of her palm. � With a unique and fluid motion, she slips her dress up and over the curve of her hips,� rolls her long slender leg over his torso and slowly lowers herself onto him, teasing his warm, flush, flesh deliberately against herself, feeling his boldness parting the folds of her gate. � Minutes pass, deliciously slow. She relishes every second of the feeling of their contact. The inching and building of their energies continue as she feels him press firmly into her heat. She grinds down and slinks lower, there's a gnaw and a tug and a reason to stop. She rolls forwards and back, the reason to stop pussy disappears. She rises and drops likes she was jumping off a cliff. There’s a tearing that grips her with burning pain but her need and desire compels her on. Steadily, she continues downward. And, when at last, she feels the fullness of him inside her and the touch of his stomach presses into hers, she shudders and a tingly heat prickles up through her spine. Blood trickles and tints his skin. Her skin ripples with vigor. She smiles at the pain for it's of her own Hairy making. The fine radiant hairs on her arms and legs stand up, like they do, to capture the sun when she's chilled. She rises slowly and the pain becomes warmth and the warmth becomes energizing. "So this is how it feels with not hate or cruelty." she whispers in her mind,� “This!--- Is this where the joy in House Ziata came? Is this, what mother and father shared?" � Her dress scrapes roughly at the hardened nibs that push away tauntingly� from the dark, sensitive circles of skin strip on her chest.� It teases that delicate flesh with it's gauzy fabric, sending waves of fire and energized, humming pulses through her bones, sinew and nerves.� She rolls her hips back, methodically, then forward, an ecstasy rises inside her� and a fury of blood, she didn't know possible, begins pulsing and feeding her with a need to orgasm continue. The hairs of his loins tease her most sensorial of places, lifting her higher into her senses and pulling oral him within it.� Her body shakes as she rises and sets upon him. He wakes from his dream� at the same place he left it. Inside her,� fueled by her fragrance,� urged on by her sultry, velveteen grasp, surrounded in an all consuming warmth. � He was looking at her firm bottom for a few seconds, then moved his gaze to her face and their eyes locked. You’ll be the best strip looking boys at the party.” A crime for which he can go to prison.” Now that's fucked Hairy up, if you ask me !" I asked Jack to sit on the exam table while pussy I attempted to explain in general terms what we would be doing. A sly smirk that made me gulp down orgasm on the chagrin. “No, no, no, c’mon now. I want to be racist too. MMMmmm!” I think I’m gonna have oral to give an award to your cock soon." watched as the overflow of his cum ran out my pussy The next morning, I woke up alone.