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I let out a moan and you sensed that I wasn't going to last much longer!! You fleetingly thought about quickly taking my load in your mouth, but then you thought that you would just complete your, and what you hoped to be my first sockjob!I moaned out loud that I'm getting close to cumming. You take your left foot and place it to my face. It's kinda smelly, and you hope that doesn't ruin the experience, but you're surprised as I grab your foot and inhale deeply as my cock begins to spurt my huge, creamy load over your soft, white sock!!!!!! When I was finally done, we both just lay there staring at my spent cock....still between your cum covered socks. It was really, really hot!! You slowly pulled your feet away and my cock falls between my legs. You sit on the bed and pull your soaked socks off and tossed them on the floor. You quickly ran over to your hamper and retrieve a pair of tiny running socks, a pair you wore just this morning while jogging, and come back to where I'm still. Some spattered on my cheek! It was warm. I grinned, really fascinated at how excited he was! I kept pumping and he kept squirting—I lost track of how many times, but all too soon he was relaxing. His cock twitched a few times, a few last drops oozing out. His eyelids half shut, he was breathing deeply and grinning widely. “Thank you sooo much,” he murmured. Miranda whispered in my ear, “Nice, June. You really got him. Now grasp him tightly near the base and move up to the tip slowly.” I did as she told me and Jim threw back his head, gasping again. As I moved my hand up the shaft, which was already losing some stiffness, more cum oozed out of the tip. Nothing like when he was shooting, but a few drops. Then when I got to the tip, Jim’s eyes opened wide and he gasped aloud again, his whole body jerking. The cock slipped from my grasp, he was moving so fast. “Oh, thank you, thank you,” he gasped. “That felt so good, but I can’t take any more now—it’s too sensitive.” Miranda handed me a.
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‘Fill me,’ she urged, her muscles squeezing him deliciously, and he came, shuddering and meeting the thrust and clutch of her in a blinding white flash. Their slow return to the world came in gradual shifts, his body collapsing onto hers, the shift and turn of him as she labored to breathe under his weight, the mingling of their hands, the seeping between her legs, thick, like sap, the roll of him onto his belly, hugging the pillow beneath his head, the deep even sound of his breathing. Dawn dozed, in and out, the light on the ceiling brighter now, the day begun out there somewhere, this first day of Hanukkah. It was after Christmas, the holiday her husband cared about, and she had spent it with him. This was her holiday, her week of worship, and she was praying here, in a little flat in London with a man she felt knew her better than anyone in the world, yet whose presence she had physically basked in only a dozen times at most. The world was a funny place. She rolled to look at.

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