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Wednesday 28 March 2012

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She had a long flight, so I told her we could take it easy tonight and take a stroll in Central Park. Oddly enough the sky is clear tonight and the moon beams are gleaming off her voluptuous tits. My eyes draw to her plunging neck line Her nipples stare right through me calling my lips. If she only knew how soaked my panties were; juiciness in between every layer of my pussy.
I suggest we take a break, chill on the bench for a moment. Looks like she didn’t have a meal on the flight cause the next thing I know, it was suddenly supper time. No time for foreplay cause my pussy can’t wait any longer. As she makes her way down, she pops open my button down shirt to expose my mocha nipples, she pulls the rings with her teeth. “Aaahh” she knows I love pain. Heat courses under my skin and through my sweet pussy creating an overflow of wetness. Easy enough to slide a finger or two.
She feels adventurous though, so she strokes in four, but my pussy is so tight, engorged so the fourth slips out. Placing her thumb over my throbbing clit, she feels it beat and moves it like she’s mixing records with her tongue. She mentions I taste sweet, I reply “yea I know mama” and proceed to press my lips on hers. I push my hips forward and guide her head right in the middle so I can grind on those beautiful lips and tongue. Steady grinding on every ridge and fold she makes with it.
I can’t see or hear anything but an orchestral symphony of squishiness, flapping of her full lips and slapping of my thighs against her face. I hope she was thirsty ‘cause it’s cumming. I concentrate on the notes, nothing more and her chin is glazed over with the slickness of my squirt. My conservative moans could not withhold the yells out of my mouth. I am seized with trembles from the magic touch her whole mouth has blessed me with. I am relieved and she is full. But I still hear symphony strokes, a sort of rapping of skin. We turn around and to our surprise, someone had bought tickets to the show…

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