And every new line he got her to cross made him cum harder. But not since that fateful day with Brad had he gotten to satisfy his one particular urge...of having another guy watch her service him. Or, the other side of that coin, watching her perform with someone else. With several girls over the years, Matt had tried to hook his boys up with some action. It wasn’t so much the idea of watching that that got him off, it was more the concept that he’d be the one controlling the situation. That. Keeping my eyes locked to his, I reached behind my head and pulled the clip holding my hair up, tossed it to the side and let my hair fall down over his lap to obstruct his view. I closed my eyes and licked the length of his shaft again, stopping to flick the tip of my tongue over that sensitive ridge of skin just below the head. He made a sound halfway between a moan and a growl. I glanced up at him, and through the curtain of my red hair I saw that he had thrown his head back and closed his. What are you waiting for?” Twenty minutes later you walked back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around your long, blond hair and stood next to the bed. I slid down and stopped with my face directly in front of your smooth, freshly shaved mound. I moved close. “Spread your legs, slut.” You complied immediately, still not understanding exactly why just the act of compliance itself was enough to make your pussy moisten in anticipation. I extended my tongue and spread it wide as I swabbed. This made her throw back her head and gasp in joyous thankfulness for my manipulation. Her pelvis swayed with even more abandon, the pistoning of the pair picked up pace. My palm and fingers now strummed my mother's pudenda, brushing folds and clit and labia, like I was plucking a bass fiddle. However, mom's sound was high pitched, as her chords sang a wail from her throat, the clarion call of of her climax.Her full entire body undulated, with her going over the top, as she was taken with.
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She giggled as she dropped to her knees and licked the head of my penis.“What are you doing? Where is Mrs. Johnson?” I whispered, trying not to be
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