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I knew he wanted that side, because he liked me on his right, with my head on his shoulder. It was fairly warm, and we wound up kicking the blankets off, and had just a light sheet over us. Mark was caressing my back, and I was kind of idly playing with his chest. His chest isn't really hairy, but there's some, enough to play with, and I think he liked that. The light was off, and the transom window had been painted over for more privacy, but enough light came through from the hall to keep it from being completely dark.

I was just so much in love with this man! He was kind and gentle, but strong, surprisingly strong. He didn't look terribly muscular, more rawboned than anything, but he seemed to do things effortlessly. I remember when he had picked me up once, and carried me across a puddle, just to be a gentleman - and to show off a bit, I think, because we were on campus with a bunch of other people around - and it didn't seem like he was straining himself in the slightest. His touch was gentle, but his hands were still calloused, they were the hands of a man who done physical work.

Mark was playing with my back and my shoulder, and lightly kissing my forehead, when I surprised myself: the thought had never occurred to me before, but I reached further down and took his nipple in my mouth, he moaned for a second, and then whispered my name, lovingly and desperately and pleadingly. There was enough light in the tiny bedroom to see that he was ready for love, very ready for love. And I knew, I was ready, too. I hated that I was on my period, but even this tampon couldn't stop me from getting wet, so very wet, and I just couldn't help myself anymore: I reached down, pulled out the tampon, threw it on the floor at he foot of the bed, and moved on top of my wonderful, wonderful man. I know that Mark wasn't expecting this - neither was I, honestly - but I took him in my hand and guided him inside of me.

This was different. The first times we had made love, we'd had to use a condom; now that I was on the pill, there was no barrier in between us, and I was feeling Mark, all of Mark, and I could tell that he was feeling me as well. There was just enough light in the room for me to see his face, to see the look on his face, a look of what I thought must have been ecstasy, a look which must have been love. I don't know if he could see my face or not in the low light, but I know that I was smiling, and that if he could see my eyes, he would see that they were open, and looking at him. I could look at him forever!

Since I was on top, I was controlling everything, and was moving slowly, so very slowly, and I was in absolute heaven. I could feel it building up inside me, a growing heat and a tension and an utter passion that cried out for release, and that release came, washing over me, overcoming me, causing me to cry out. I could see it building in Mark, and now I knew what was coming, and once it overtook me, my eyes closed but I could still hear my lover, and I could feel his urgency, as his hands grabbed my hips, forced himself more deeply inside of me, and had his own release with a roar.

I don't know how long we laid there, with me collapsed on top of Mark, kissing his chest and playing with his hair. I still had my hair in a pony, so it wasn't splayed all over the bed but it was off the left side of my neck, on Mark's shoulder and arm, and he was idly playing with my hair. Finally, Mark just slipped out of me, and I kind of felt a gush, I rolled off to his right side and giggled, "I think we just made a mess."

"That's the second set of sheets you've bloodied up, Matthews," which startled me for a second, before I realized it was a joke.

"What, do you wish I hadn't?" I can't believe that I was teasing him like this; I never teased people like this before I met Mark. "Still, ugh, I've got to clean myself up here," and I got up to head to the bathroom, holding my hand beneath me to keep from dripping on the floor.

I was a bloody mess, red half way down to my knees, and Mark followed me rig

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