holding them down firmly. But we both knew the truth; she could easily escape if she wanted to.
Camilla didn’t want to.
My lips found hers and I was pleasantly surprised at the sweet, minty taste of her mouth. I hated the taste of wine and, quite frequently, had to work past it. I kissed her deeper and she sighed into me.
A kiss was nothing but clinical to me. I felt it, but I didn’t really feel it at all. To me, it was the equivalent of somebody touching my arm. I could feel it, and it felt pleasant, but that was all. That was where it ended. I was desensitized.
Camilla seemed to enjoy my body weight on her, so I left it there, slowly grinding my hips into hers. With one hand, I worked on my button and zipper then worked my pants down my legs. I kissed Camilla harder, pushing her hands down in warning as I lowered my own to remove her panties. Then, in one swift move, I rolled us. We had switched places.
Camilla was wet already. Sopping wet. As I lay back on the bed with my hands on her hips, she ground her bare pussy into my thigh. My cock jerked. I could smell her. My mouth watered.
Would I ever get sick of sex? No. I didn’t think so. I loved it too much.
My hands slid up her hips to hold her just under the arms, then I pulled. She landed on top of me and my hand tangled in her hair, pulling her mouth to mine in a searing kiss. She moaned lightly and I felt pre-cum bead at the tip of my burning cock.
I wanted to fuck her, but this wasn’t about me. It was about Camilla. My arms went around her as I sat up, taking her with me. I pulled back, and with a rough tug at her bra, her breasts were free. I lowered my face and took a small nipple into my mouth. It was my turn to groan.
Fuck , but I loved tits.
Camilla gasped for breath above me. Her hands went to my head and her fingers ran through my hair before grasping tightly. When I nibbled at her taut bud, her grip tightened as she panted. The harder she tightened her grip, the harder I nibbled.
She was well and truly ready, my thigh covered in her juices. And I wanted nothing more than to eat her pussy till she came on my face.
I loved it when they came in my mouth. It was dirty, and hot, and uncivilized. And I fucking dug it.
I lay back down, holding Camilla by the waist, keeping her in a sitting position. Gripping her tightly, I lifted and pulled forward. She moaned out an unsteady, “Oh, Jesus,” as my lips came into contact with hers, and not the ones on her mouth.
My tongue dipped in, tasting her musk. She tasted spicy and sweet. I dipped in for another taste. Then it came to me. She tasted like cinnamon. I liked cinnamon.
With her knees at the sides of my face, I ran my hands down them as I delved deeper. I kissed her, and sucked her, and licked her. I swirled my tongue inside of her, up and down, then sucked on her hard little button. She screamed brokenly and her thighs tightened around my head, holding me in place as she began grinding herself into my mouth. I wished I could reach my cock. I wished I could grip it hard and jerk it harshly. I wanted to come so bad that I almost forgot what I was doing.
Camilla worked herself into me as I ate her. She loved this as much as I did. My hands reached back and found her soft, tight ass. I dug my fingers in, squeezing hard. I pulled back to growl, “God, you’re so fucking sweet. I could eat your pussy all day long, baby.”
I couldn’t begin to tell you how many women I have said that exact line to in the past four years. I couldn’t tell you, because it was almost every time. And that was a lot of occasions. Well into the thousands. They were just words, but the women liked them.
My lips sealed over her sweet spot and I sucked hard. Camilla whined softly then louder and louder. Her legs tightened around my head harder and harder, till she let out a hoarse yell. I licked at her entrance and felt it pulse against my tongue.
Oh, yeah. That was the shit right there.
Before she could recover from
Camilla didn’t want to.
My lips found hers and I was pleasantly surprised at the sweet, minty taste of her mouth. I hated the taste of wine and, quite frequently, had to work past it. I kissed her deeper and she sighed into me.
A kiss was nothing but clinical to me. I felt it, but I didn’t really feel it at all. To me, it was the equivalent of somebody touching my arm. I could feel it, and it felt pleasant, but that was all. That was where it ended. I was desensitized.
Camilla seemed to enjoy my body weight on her, so I left it there, slowly grinding my hips into hers. With one hand, I worked on my button and zipper then worked my pants down my legs. I kissed Camilla harder, pushing her hands down in warning as I lowered my own to remove her panties. Then, in one swift move, I rolled us. We had switched places.
Camilla was wet already. Sopping wet. As I lay back on the bed with my hands on her hips, she ground her bare pussy into my thigh. My cock jerked. I could smell her. My mouth watered.
Would I ever get sick of sex? No. I didn’t think so. I loved it too much.
My hands slid up her hips to hold her just under the arms, then I pulled. She landed on top of me and my hand tangled in her hair, pulling her mouth to mine in a searing kiss. She moaned lightly and I felt pre-cum bead at the tip of my burning cock.
I wanted to fuck her, but this wasn’t about me. It was about Camilla. My arms went around her as I sat up, taking her with me. I pulled back, and with a rough tug at her bra, her breasts were free. I lowered my face and took a small nipple into my mouth. It was my turn to groan.
Fuck , but I loved tits.
Camilla gasped for breath above me. Her hands went to my head and her fingers ran through my hair before grasping tightly. When I nibbled at her taut bud, her grip tightened as she panted. The harder she tightened her grip, the harder I nibbled.
She was well and truly ready, my thigh covered in her juices. And I wanted nothing more than to eat her pussy till she came on my face.
I loved it when they came in my mouth. It was dirty, and hot, and uncivilized. And I fucking dug it.
I lay back down, holding Camilla by the waist, keeping her in a sitting position. Gripping her tightly, I lifted and pulled forward. She moaned out an unsteady, “Oh, Jesus,” as my lips came into contact with hers, and not the ones on her mouth.
My tongue dipped in, tasting her musk. She tasted spicy and sweet. I dipped in for another taste. Then it came to me. She tasted like cinnamon. I liked cinnamon.
With her knees at the sides of my face, I ran my hands down them as I delved deeper. I kissed her, and sucked her, and licked her. I swirled my tongue inside of her, up and down, then sucked on her hard little button. She screamed brokenly and her thighs tightened around my head, holding me in place as she began grinding herself into my mouth. I wished I could reach my cock. I wished I could grip it hard and jerk it harshly. I wanted to come so bad that I almost forgot what I was doing.
Camilla worked herself into me as I ate her. She loved this as much as I did. My hands reached back and found her soft, tight ass. I dug my fingers in, squeezing hard. I pulled back to growl, “God, you’re so fucking sweet. I could eat your pussy all day long, baby.”
I couldn’t begin to tell you how many women I have said that exact line to in the past four years. I couldn’t tell you, because it was almost every time. And that was a lot of occasions. Well into the thousands. They were just words, but the women liked them.
My lips sealed over her sweet spot and I sucked hard. Camilla whined softly then louder and louder. Her legs tightened around my head harder and harder, till she let out a hoarse yell. I licked at her entrance and felt it pulse against my tongue.
Oh, yeah. That was the shit right there.
Before she could recover from
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