Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
She didn’t see the garage. She didn’t see the living room, or the hall, or the bedroom. The minute they hit the door they were kissing, stumbling through his house on their way to – where? Kyle hit the lights and she saw they were in the bathroom.
“I thought you might want to shower,” he said.
“Oh, god,” she said. “I must smell like a linebacker.”
He began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ll make sure to scrub every crevice,” he assured her.
She nearly fell getting out of her shoes. The dress ended up in the sink. He dragged her into the shower stall while still trying to get out of his underwear and they hit the tiled wall, giggling helplessly. His hands roamed her back, up into her hair, to hold her still for another of those brain-melting kisses.
He turned on the water one-handed, still kissing her, and the sudden spray of cold water made them jump apart. She made a shrieky, gasping noise.
“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, desperately adjusting the tap. The cold had made his cock flag a bit, and she found herself staring, fascinated by the way the skin on his balls tightened and moved. Before she could think rus escort about it too much and lose her nerve, she went to her knees and took him in her mouth.
“Oh, Jesus.”
She rolled her eyes upward, afraid she’d done something wrong, but he didn’t look upset. Unless she was reading that wild-eyed look wrong. “Don’t stop,” he gasped, and she rolled his cock further in, using her tongue to feel along the ridge of flesh on the underside. He was faintly salty, and she wondered if it was him or herself she was tasting. Further, until she felt her gag reflex stirring, then out almost to the tip, then back in again, curling her tongue upward, pressing him against the roof of her mouth, trying to be careful of her teeth. Was she doing this right? One half-hysterical giggling conversation at Lyn’s house during a sleepover two years ago suddenly seemed like not enough to go on.
Suddenly, Kyle banged his head twice against the wall, and bit his arm.
She drew back, alarmed. He looked down just as the tip of his cock came out, dragging her bottom lip down. “Jesus,” he said again. sıhhiye escort “Ok, now stop. Holy shit.” He pulled her upward.
“Did I do it right?” she asked. “You looked…”
“You did it – just right. I don’t want to think what you’ll be like with practice. I’ll probably have a heart attack.”
She grinned, half embarrassed, half-proud.
“God, you are adorable,” he said, and kissed her, turning her so that she was pressed up against the wall he’d been leaning on. The kiss was long, and deliberate, and his fingers did things in her hair, in the hollows behind her ears, down the nape of her neck, until she was near swooning, all her nerve endings abuzz with sensation. Her knees were wobbly. Her hands slid down his arms, feeble and lax.
“Put your leg around me,” he said into her right ear.
She found the will somewhere to lift it, and he put a hand into the crook of her knee to support her. He bent a little and then he was sliding his cock up the inside of her leg. A small shift of her hips, and he was – there.
She was swollen and sensitive, sincan escort still, and slightly sore. But also wet. He came into her smoothly, slowly, and it was so intense that she lost track of the rest of her body. She was her cunt, nothing more, and he was scraping past her abused tissues in a maddening yet satisfying way that was driving her insane. It hurt. It was exactly what she needed.
“Oh, jesus, still so tight,” he groaned into her hair. “Tight, oh god, you tight little – ah!”
Her hips jerked and he clamped his hands onto her hips and began to fuck her. Slowly. Frustrated, wanting, she racked her nails down his back. He hissed.
“Do it,” she said, low and rough. “Ah! Do it.”
“Who’s in charge, here?” he asked breathlessly, but sped up.
Not fast enough. She leaned into him and bit him, hard, right where he’d bitten her in the classroom, on his desk, on the teacher’s desk.
He let out a choked cry, and then he was pounding her against the wall, hard and fast, faster. “Bitch,” he said gutterally.
“Yes,” she moaned. She ran her hands up into his hair and closed her fists in it, yanking.
He was fucking her so hard now that he drove her punishingly against the wall with each thrust. It hurt. He was hurting her, and oh god it was so hot.
She came, screaming.
He came, all the tendons standing out on his neck, a vein pulsing frantically in his temple.
They collapsed together to the shower floor.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32