Sex du Juor: The Office - Sex Stories

Sex du Juor: The Office

... is. I groan and wail out piercingly the more; and he hastily lays his hand over my mouth, hushing and shushing me, making me go entirely noiseless and silent. Stian. You are a sweet fucker indeed. You are a sex providing specialist, my love. While I ponder these words, I am so perplexed and puzzled with the way that he is speedily and enthusiastically tack hammering and striking into me. My vulnerable vagina almost flakes out. There is just too much spermatic fluid and jism to flood and overfill her. Pity for her! She is moaning and sobbing along with me. And we are both liking and are passionate about this deep down our hearts. Damn us for it! I stir my hand yet again to reach for Stian’s buttock. I do not let it go once I have grabbed it. It is so baby smooth and thrilling and electrifying and exhilarating to touch and stroke. Ashhhh! Was it fashioned and formed straight in heaven for me alone or not? I think so. It is mine alone to tap and stroke; mine alone to enjoy and take pleasure in. And I am get pleasure from slapping and caressing it right this very instant. Yes, I beyond doubt am. I burrow and mine my nails into Stian’s backsides, scraping them to be exact, grazing them real good and actual sluggish—and it all feels so massively good and out-of-this-world that I do not even think that I have ever come across anything cloying and ickly like this. While he pierces and stabs his dick into my hole’s furry and shaggy hole, making me weep and whine and whimper and hum ...

... sweetly as a result, filling me up with excessive enjoyment and sexual delight and bliss so that I grumble and groan out, I prod and press my nicked nails and lenient fingers on his soft and fleecy-like buns, trusting, only wishing that he will take it easy and hassle-free with me. And does he in any case? No. He doesn’t at all. Damn him for it! I am so totally possessed and bedeviled with the jaw-dropping and gee-whizz way and style that he fucks and shags me up. Yeah… Bit by bit and quietly, I slide my hand underneath myself to touch and finger my much-loved pussy that he is even now whacking and battering and decking and flogging with his honeyed, massive-sized dick. Goodness. I am sinking and drowning in excessive delight and bliss, am I not? I for sure am. And I don’t want to surface and float back out to reality once more. Indubitably and hastily, I poke and stab my finger on the face of my vagina and Stian’s dick itself—and I do not even for one plain second regret it. Or do I? Hell no! Faster and more rapidly; quicker and more quickly; we persist on with our shag and hump and screw making until—at last pooped-in and dog-tired and worn-out—we both collapse and plummet down on the table underneath us and heave out a great lot deal gravely and critically. It has all been enjoyable and breathtaking and fantastic indeed. And we are ended for now, it appears. At that peak in time, the electric lights and power and supply return back, thrilling and galvanizing me much to my ...