She was hot like that.
It seemed quite apparent the way she snaked her way across my body she definitely was going to get what she wanted. Not that I was ever stopping her; for me I looked at it like a dealer catering to the needs of the addicted, and no stint in sex rehab would ever convince her otherwise.
She wore something simply easy to get into: a summer dress, patterned in light colors with three mere buttons stitched in. It was all that was separating me from her apparent good that sat so wonderful inside the threads. I quickly adjusted myself with a tug in order to be more comfortable.
As on cue, the wet trail of slopping kisses from my neck down to my torso finally made a stop to my crotch, where after much coaxing, she carefully dipped into first my shorts then my boxers like a Scrabble player grabbing a handful of letters; in this case, she paused slightly, caressing my nuts with a gentle massage before starting her oral engagement. With a twitch of its own, the sucker stood attentively for some attention.
Of course, my idle hands, not wanting left out of such excitement decided on doing much of the same upon her ample jutting cleavage. The impressive set, carefully stacked in a manner that wasn't overbearing, pushed hard against those weak set of buttons. The fleshy toned skin, packed tight upon her wired bra, peaked above, and this part of her sex called to me; I too sunk my hands through her open collar. Underneath, my fingers ran at a snail's pace as I crept along searching for her pebbled nipples. My hope was to tweak them to a sensual pulse and send that straight jolt like an electrified sensation throughout her body.
My fingers made contact, and she stopped for a moment, my dick stuck in the act, and huffed a pant from the corners of her lips. "Damn," I thought. It only made her throat her even deeper into the recess of her mouth when I rolled my index finger in and around it; in her moaning, I twist it upwards a little harder in the guise of balancing it out from fleeting excitement to pleasurable pain, and back again.
Her head bobbed with each thrust of her mouth down upon it, and she rhythmically danced upon the shaft; she milked it with her tongue wrapped around both the bloated head and the thickness, as she continued assaulting it with her own version of an oral tug of war.
By then, her hands slipped to her wide hips, her fingers pulling up on the sides of her dress till the end sat comfortably upon her rounded ass. The sweet smell of her sex soon drifted up and touched my senses; yes, she had started diddling herself, when I, slit eyed looked straight down and watched her play upon her pussy. She ran her fingers and twirling her silken thong into a circular frenzy upon her clit, and the fleeting action seeped through a damp impression on the pink.