He was black, that much I knew. I just looked down at the juncture where his cock was. I felt it start to go in and started to hunch my hips, trying to get him in all the way as fast as I could. I wanted him to ram me. I wanted to rut with him. I had to get off!He was soon stroking in and out of me like a battering ram. I loved it. He was getting me right up next to cumming now. I was so close, so close. A few minutes went by and I was still right on the edge of cumming when I felt him shoot off in me. I felt the warm spray inside, and knew that it was heading right into my womb. I didn't care. I needed to cum still.The man kept stroking me, not getting soft. Soon he was back at full speed. He rolled us over so that I was on top and I set up and rode him hard. I was bouncing lewdly around; my breasts were jiggling and waving all around.I felt him getting ready to go off again. I rocked and ground down on him. His cum shot out and it was much hotter than the first time. I still hadn't. Not from thrashing about, I realised – though there had been an agreeable amount of the bouncy stuff prior to this particular moment – but from something more subtle. A tiny gasp, reminded me that some joys are so exquisite to contemplate, that you momentarily forget to breathe. This doesn’t happen as much.She looked up at me, eyes wide, lip slightly bitten. And that was when I saw the look that I will carry with me into dotage. It was the look of someone who digs you, seriously fucking turned on. Like, stupidly, impossibly, nothing-will-ever-feel-quite-the-same-again turned on. But it was more than that even. It was a look also of acceptance, of longing, of trust and of urgent desires that needed to be quenched. Some folk call it the look of love, but unless you’ve been in this exact scenario I’d invite you not to consider me a twat for suggesting that. (Oh, and there was a gentleman sucking my cock two inches from her face. I maybe should have mentioned that). She moaned at the.
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