come.
“Make love to me?” she repeated.
“Yes.” I headed towards the bedroom, kicked at the door and stepped into the darkness.
“Why?”
“Because I want you, and I’m pretty damn sure you want me too.” I sat her on the bed, dragged off my top and began to shove at my jeans.
“Oh, so you want to fuck?” She slid her gaze over my chest, down to my stomach and groin.
The heat of her appreciative look left a trembling trail of awareness on my flesh.
I booted away my clothes. My cock bobbed high and proud, face-level with her. I tipped her chin so that she had her attention on my eyes and not my dick.
“I’m going to make love to you, Zara. My way.”
I kissed her again, taking control of the heat and the passion, peeling off her dress and then laying her back on the bed. Her head nestled in the pillows, hair spread out, a black fan. I glanced down at her tits, at her nipples tight and hard, and the pretty black knickers.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, peppering kisses down her throat.
She stroked my hair and gave a breathy moan in reply.
“So beautiful, and so soft.” I swirled my tongue around her left nipple then sucked it into my mouth.
She reacted with a small squirm and her nipple tightened further, becoming a hard teat for me to flicker and play with.
My pelvis was heavy with want, my cock damp at the end, a drip of pre-cum having leaked onto her thigh and spread about.
I headed lower, slipped my fingertips in the elastic of the panties and drew them down her legs. Once they’d landed on the floor I stared at her, sprawled, sacrificial almost, on my bed. Her skin was pale against the dark bed sheets, and the lights of London, seeping through the window, showcased one side of her face. She resembled a goddess, her expression calm, her eyes heavy. Her breasts were damp from my kisses, a little shiny, her nipples still hard. She had the most exquisite breasts I’d ever seen, and I’d been right, they were the perfect fit for my palms.
I kissed the point of her hip bone, trailed my tongue to her navel then up her sternum to the hollow of her throat. She writhed for my touch, her body straining for it.
Stretching out over her, I looked into her eyes and glided two fingers into her pussy.
Her breath juddered, but she held my gaze.
I sought her clit with my thumb and set up a smooth, hand-fucking rhythm, rejoicing in the hot wetness of her. Still I gazed down at her face. Who was in charge now? Who wanted it the most now?
God, she was beautiful when she was gasping for it.
My cock throbbed, my balls were tight. I withdrew my fingers from her and set myself at her entrance, impatience a devil egging me on.
“Condom,” she gasped, drawing her fingers, which had been resting on my shoulder, into a fist. “Victor, wear a condom.”
“Shit, yes, of course.” I scrabbled to the bedside cabinet. Grabbed a Durex and hurriedly rolled it on. How could I have nearly forgotten? Idiot.
Safely sheathed, I moved back over her. “Where was I?” I said, pressing my forearms into the pillow either side of her head, my cock searching for the inviting wetness of her pussy.
Her mouth formed an ‘o’ as I pushed in. It was a snug fit; she was small, dainty.
I let out a groan. Fucking hell, had it ever felt so good? Her pussy was perfect for my cock. Hot, so damn hot, and full of tight muscles rippling along my dick as she pulled me higher.
“Ah, Zara, you feel amazing,” I gasped.
She wrapped her legs around my thighs, raised her hips in invitation, and I sank balls deep.
“ Ahhh, yeah…” I caught her mouth in a passion-infused kiss.
Damn, that’s what I’d been waiting for. Willing, warm pussy. Zara had been winding me up for days, but none of the climaxes had produced satisfaction, had merely taken the edge off of a need. But this, making love, this was what I craved.
I built the speed to a gentle tempo, quality not quantity. Each time I reached the hilt I shifted my pelvis,
“Make love to me?” she repeated.
“Yes.” I headed towards the bedroom, kicked at the door and stepped into the darkness.
“Why?”
“Because I want you, and I’m pretty damn sure you want me too.” I sat her on the bed, dragged off my top and began to shove at my jeans.
“Oh, so you want to fuck?” She slid her gaze over my chest, down to my stomach and groin.
The heat of her appreciative look left a trembling trail of awareness on my flesh.
I booted away my clothes. My cock bobbed high and proud, face-level with her. I tipped her chin so that she had her attention on my eyes and not my dick.
“I’m going to make love to you, Zara. My way.”
I kissed her again, taking control of the heat and the passion, peeling off her dress and then laying her back on the bed. Her head nestled in the pillows, hair spread out, a black fan. I glanced down at her tits, at her nipples tight and hard, and the pretty black knickers.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, peppering kisses down her throat.
She stroked my hair and gave a breathy moan in reply.
“So beautiful, and so soft.” I swirled my tongue around her left nipple then sucked it into my mouth.
She reacted with a small squirm and her nipple tightened further, becoming a hard teat for me to flicker and play with.
My pelvis was heavy with want, my cock damp at the end, a drip of pre-cum having leaked onto her thigh and spread about.
I headed lower, slipped my fingertips in the elastic of the panties and drew them down her legs. Once they’d landed on the floor I stared at her, sprawled, sacrificial almost, on my bed. Her skin was pale against the dark bed sheets, and the lights of London, seeping through the window, showcased one side of her face. She resembled a goddess, her expression calm, her eyes heavy. Her breasts were damp from my kisses, a little shiny, her nipples still hard. She had the most exquisite breasts I’d ever seen, and I’d been right, they were the perfect fit for my palms.
I kissed the point of her hip bone, trailed my tongue to her navel then up her sternum to the hollow of her throat. She writhed for my touch, her body straining for it.
Stretching out over her, I looked into her eyes and glided two fingers into her pussy.
Her breath juddered, but she held my gaze.
I sought her clit with my thumb and set up a smooth, hand-fucking rhythm, rejoicing in the hot wetness of her. Still I gazed down at her face. Who was in charge now? Who wanted it the most now?
God, she was beautiful when she was gasping for it.
My cock throbbed, my balls were tight. I withdrew my fingers from her and set myself at her entrance, impatience a devil egging me on.
“Condom,” she gasped, drawing her fingers, which had been resting on my shoulder, into a fist. “Victor, wear a condom.”
“Shit, yes, of course.” I scrabbled to the bedside cabinet. Grabbed a Durex and hurriedly rolled it on. How could I have nearly forgotten? Idiot.
Safely sheathed, I moved back over her. “Where was I?” I said, pressing my forearms into the pillow either side of her head, my cock searching for the inviting wetness of her pussy.
Her mouth formed an ‘o’ as I pushed in. It was a snug fit; she was small, dainty.
I let out a groan. Fucking hell, had it ever felt so good? Her pussy was perfect for my cock. Hot, so damn hot, and full of tight muscles rippling along my dick as she pulled me higher.
“Ah, Zara, you feel amazing,” I gasped.
She wrapped her legs around my thighs, raised her hips in invitation, and I sank balls deep.
“ Ahhh, yeah…” I caught her mouth in a passion-infused kiss.
Damn, that’s what I’d been waiting for. Willing, warm pussy. Zara had been winding me up for days, but none of the climaxes had produced satisfaction, had merely taken the edge off of a need. But this, making love, this was what I craved.
I built the speed to a gentle tempo, quality not quantity. Each time I reached the hilt I shifted my pelvis,
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