Honey Pot

He held my body very delicately and put me down on the sofa. I removed the white top I had on and looked at him. He was busy trying to undo my bra. Hehehe. Why do guys have a hard time unhooking the bra? I helped him and there was I. Naked from the waist up. My two boobs pointed sharply at the ceiling.

Next, he inserted his hands under the short skirt I had on. Since I was not wearing any underwear, he went directly to the honey pot. He smiled as I had made the work to be so much easier.

Few minutes of foreplay got me ready for the main dish. He removed his clothes and slid into my body. His warm manhood was so hard that I let out a weak cry as it slid in. By now, I was so wet that I held him by my feet in order for him not to move from the position. He laughed. He increased the momentum of the thrust. The bodies were moving in sync with one another.

After the act, we both lay awake listening to the people outside. I could hear a woman shouting…..or rather singing. Her voice was awful. My breath was now back to normal. I dragged myself from the bed to the bathroom to wipe myself only to find that I was so sweaty. I decided to shower instead.

As I stepped on the shower, Fred joined me from behind touching my buttocks. He pushed me to the wall and kissed me. I pulled out after a few seconds in order to get some air. He was smiling sheepishly.

“I still have some Jameson. Can I pour you a shot?” He asked.

“No, not now.”

“It will make you feel good. Really good.” He insisted.

“No thanks. But please get me the wine.”

“Okay.” He said and stepped out naked.

I took the opportunity of being alone and washed up quickly before he came back. I rinsed off, took the towel and wrapped myself. I met him on the hallway.

“Where do you think you are going?” He shouted.

“Ssshhhh……” I tried to shut him down.

“What?” He asked.

“You are shouting. You will wake Chloe up.” I hissed at him then went to the living room.

He followed me. He put the glass of wine on the table for me and sat beside me.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

“It is okay.” I replied and took a sip on wine. “I thought you were going to take a shower?”

“I was but decided otherwise.” He said.

I looked at him and laughed. He was butt naked. He was holding the almost empty bottle of Jameson hear his tummy. His manhood, now limp, was dangling from the seat. He was watching TV without a care in the world.

I drunk two glasses of wine before deciding to retire to bed. I was tired. I left him on the sofa watching some sports highlights.

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