That was the best sex I've ever had. My hand continues to massage his manhood as it presses firmly on my pussy and I moan loudly. Not for his father, but for him. That sweet, kissable mouth. I roll him onto his back and slide down his body looking up at him through my eyelashes. I was on my knees facing her and in the dim light I could see her looking at my naked body and particularly at my stiff cock.
I threw the covers off, pushed Eileen gently but insistently onto her back and pulled her thong off. Remember, I know all the salaries. Danny was her stepson. She obviously was having one orgasm after another. She hurried to sit up, reaching for the sheet just as Danny knocked on the open door. We should probably get some sleep. She knew it must be real, though, because the Danny of her fantasies was shy. Eileen kept getting more and more vocal which always turns me on, but I remember wondering if we might get a call to keep it down. She licked away for a little while then pulled back, leaving a wet patch. Nobody ever needed to know. Now I was certain I could stop being the least bit cautious. Her cheeks warmed as she realized that the object of her mid-afternoon fantasy fingerfuck was standing right below her. Holding her ankles in one hand I leaned down and started playing with her pretty little rosebud. I tell him I'm fine, that it's just a bit hot. She let out a low, desperate moan, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Finally as if her curiosity was satisfied, she gripped the shaft and started slowly pumping. I could feel her stiffen in surprise but she quickly relaxed and began responding to the pressure of my lips. Afterwards, we lay down, spooning again, only this time naked. She should do the right thing. And in the way her nipples had hardened beneath the black lace scrap of a bra she wore. She had a meeting with her financial advisor in an hour. We extended our check-out time and by the time we left the room the next afternoon, Eileen knew the basics of giving great head and rimming. When he spoke, his voice was low. He would be a little shy. She wore spike heels which only accentuated the shape of her lovely calves. Her dark coloring reflected her Italian heritage, the edge to her personality, the Irish. Think about that feeling, a delicate little tongue in your most sensitive place.
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