Amateur multiple solo orgasms
It was the same routine on Sunday. Chris was gone by morning, his bedding neatly folded on the ottoman.
Why she would contact him after what, almost eight years. And why he was so concerned about accepting her proposition.
Suddenly, he smacked my pussy and flicked my clit full-on. I screamed, unable to close my legs due to his position or spread them wider because he was gripping my right thigh, holding it in place.
When I reached to undo his belt and lower his zipper, he lifted his hips.
I moped around the house, thankful that my new schedule did not include weekends.
He folded his arms on the table as well, one hand around his paper cup. "What's going on behind those beautiful emerald eyes?" My cheeks burned, and I could only look as high as his single-dimpled mouth while my hands fumbled at opening the wrapper on my sandwich.
I didn't mind if he held it in place or I could use my own hand. But when I could only use my concentration.
Before I could even ask about the pie I always made, she mentioned that as she had cut back on sweets, she hoped I wasn't too upset if we just skipped dessert altogether.
Once again, Dirk was to blame for my sour mood. I'd not yet confronted him about the incident from last Halloween.