It wasn’t long before I felt the familiar clenching of her walls around me. My thrusts became more strained and desperate as she tightened. She bucked and writhed beneath me, struggling in my hands while her lungs searched frantically for every breath. Biting into her breast, my teeth raking her nipple, I sent her careering over the edge. Her hips rose, falling hard as her chest did likewise. Turning rigid and failing to breathe, her tight tunnel at last clamped down on me, firmly demanding my own climax. I succumbed to her as our lips met once more, deep and hard. We swallowed each other’s moans, holding tightly to the other as she received pulse after pulse of me inside her. * With new eyes, I gazed out over the brightly lit streets of London; such a contrast to its unusual gloom. I would like to say that my new eyes gave me a different view of the city and gave me new insight into its wonders. I would like to say that, however, I usually find we don’t always get what we’d like.. . I slid under the side of the stall at the end. It was only two down from the one where the woman was sitting. Her voice was lower and softer now, little fluttery noises from deep in her throat. I took off my shoes, set them up on the ledge, and climbed up on top of the toilet. Good thing I did a lot of push-ups when I was young, my arms were up to the task of getting up on top of the stall wall. Of course the bonus was that with my shoes out of view, and me at the back of the stall, I was pretty much invisible to a casual onlooker. I balanced my belly on the wall and poked my head out further. Finally I saw what was going on. Or getting off, more like.She was nice looking -- black hair, frilly yellow blouse gaping open, medium tits, smooth legs. Her panties were out of sight, probably on the floor the way she had her legs spread. She was leaning back on the toilet seat with three fingers sliding through her wet slit and her left hand mauling her breast. She must have been pinching.
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