Why wouldn’t he just do it? He wanted his cock thrusting her to another orgasm. She slid her arms down his body and gripped his crotch. She felt his...cock, swollen, within. She squeezed it gentle and stroked. Ryan let out a grunt and put a hand on the table to prop himself up. Emily pushed her chair back and dropped to her knees, pulling at Ryan’s jeans. His button popped through its slit and the fly came undone. With a yank, she took his jeans down. She freed his cock from his boxers. Its thick. He slipped on hand into his shorts to rub himself, but his eyes stayed glued to Cynthia. Sweat was running down his cheeks even though the fall air was crisp. He knew the images from this night would be stamped onto his brain in exquisite detail for as long as he lived. Cynthia moved from the window, turned off the overhead light, checked to make sure her bedroom door was locked, and moved to her bed. Only the soft night light on her nightstand illuminated her room. She propped up her pillows. More

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