My fantasy continued, with her gently releasing the grip on my head. I'd wordlessly stand, perch her on the window ledge, raise one of her legs to my ...houlder, step in and slide my considerable girth into the wetness we'd created. I wanted to set up an escalating rhythm, our hips and eyes locked, building the pace until I was sawing into her deeply, wetly, acutely aware of my impending orgasm as she urgently drew me inside her slick petals.I pictured her head tipping back against the glass, my. She let him go and ran into the john. He could hear her spitting. He regained his balance and stooped to raise his underpants. As he was finishing with his jeans, she ran past into the kitchen. She returned to the john with a glass, and he could hear continual spitting.“You don’t taste all that good, you know,” she said. Well, it had been her idea. He hadn’t objected; he had, indeed, enjoyed it, but he hadn’t asked for it.“Sorry about that. Next month I won’t force you like I did this. More

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