My hotbox massages him in from the tip to the base with each stroke as I ride him slow and steady. He cups my breasts with his hands, caressing them e...ch time with my strokes. My nipples harden against his soft touch, longing to be kissed. I increase my pace, rocking harder and faster. Each movement brings cries of joy from me as the intensity grows. I tighten my muscles around his girth, milking him. He groans and thrusts harder.He wraps his arms around me and rises up to a sitting position.. She remembered the smell of cinnamon toast, the feel of the wall on her hand, cool and rough, as she made her way down the hall toward the living room. She remembered the angle of the doorway to the kitchen and standing next to the sofa that her mother had been asleep on less than an hour ago. Susan could see only their heads as they lay on the faded, dirty linoleum, his face obliterating hers, his teeth clenched, his eyes closed, one of his hands holding both of hers above her head. He was. More

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