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My panties darkened with my juices.I closed my eyes and threw back my head, giving in to the sensations he was causing. When I began to mentally beg him to touch me harder, his caresses stopped only to be replaced by his lips and tongue. I began to moan and squirm as he repeated his prior actions with agonizing patience and slowness.His attentions to my flesh had me in such a stupor that my own hand reached under my panties and started rubbing my clit. With his lips and tongue all over my body, everywhere but my aching, dripping pussy, I felt an intense orgasm begin to build.I began to pant and then moan. As soon as I got close to bursting he’d pull my hand away until the impending orgasm subsided. I soon forgot all about my parents, outside and only yards away, and began begging him to let me cum.“Please let me cum. I need to fucking cum! Please let me orgasm! I’ll do anything.”He smiled, stood, and pulled off the towel he was wearing. His very thick cock, as thick as a can of. Jerome and I used to be a bit of an item but then he got a job as the Manager of the local supermarket and all of a sudden his only interest seemed to be the price of beans. Apart from the odd bashed tin it was downhill all the way for us. But now I thought he might prove useful. Who else would get the local gossip on the bored housewives of k**erton?Jerome was up for it, well I knew he would be; since we broke up I don’t think he'd had a date more exciting than the wilted flower on his forecourt, and the thought of finding out about group sex was all he needed to get him interested. Jerome was on the case and a couple of days later reported back to me."Apparently, it goes on every week, Friday nights. There's a lock in at The Kings Head, whoever stays in the snug puts their name in a hat and the names are divided out. Do you want to go?"Well of course I did, this was the lead I had been waiting for. So Friday saw me and Jerome in The Kings Head, not the usual place you would find me.
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“You’ve certainly replenished your juice,” he continued. “Not for long ……….the way you’re milking it out of me,” I remarked. “Not liking it then?” he added light heartedly. “Too much,” I replied. “Is that possible,” he said chuckling to himself. “Come over here,” he carried on, having got to his feet. I joined him standing next to a black leather ottoman. “I want you to straddle it,” he informed me. I followed his instruction my feet either side of the stool. “Now sit down,” he continued. I complied assuming the stance a jockey would take in a race, like hopping on to a ‘saddle’. Henry then bestrode the ottoman and sat down behind me. He encouraged me to lift myself up slightly in order for him to work his dick into my love hole. He then pulled me in close and began rocking his hips forward and back. It was a terrific sensation and the deep forward bend combined with my wide leg stance made this a physically intimate rear entry position that I’d never experienced before. As he.

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