He has a surprise for Jenny Porn Video

At the Conference. Stunned by the beautiful Queen Nefertiti.

My mind wills my legs to open up again, and my open hand strokes the area, with my fingers running over the sensitive folds, the tip of my middle finger slipping between them, gathering the sticky fluid. For a moment, I consider tasting it; tasting my own juices as Chris had done before, but quickly I abandon that thought. Instead, I let my fingers run between my legs again, this time deliberately pressing my index finger deeper between the folds. My index finger runs all the way up, up to that incredibly sensitive spot, almost too sensitive to touch.

The other hand also becomes bolder, and finds its way through the neck of my gown, behind my bra, to touch the skin of one of my breasts. This time I can't withhold a frustrated groan; frustrated by the barriers of fabric, obstructing access to my own body. The thought crosses my mind that I should have taken off my bra before getting in bed, but I also know I would never do such a thing. I have to make do with the limited space available.

My hand moves over my breast and I guide my nipple between my fingers; I squeeze the nipple between my fingers, first softly, then harder until it hurts, and even then I won't let go of it. I hold my breath and cherish the waves of sweet pain. His lips had sucked this nipple; his tongue had flicked over it, played with it, and made my body tingle and vibrate. He had played my body like he knew every detail of it, and by playing it he had awoken feelings of which I never knew they existed in me. And now I'm left behind, lusting for more, enslaving my once so strong and pure mind to satisfy the desires of the filthy flesh.

I push my bra down as far as I can, thereby freeing the nipples from the fabric. My hand draws back, briefly my fingers stroke my neck and cheek, and then they paw the breasts through the fabric of the gown. The hand has become rough and less coordinated, but even so, the flames it sends through my body adds to the heat coming from between my legs.

The fingers of the other hand no longer stroke the contours, but follow the path Chis' carrot had taken before; they and slip inside me. First, it is only my index finger, which carefully explores my cavity, softly brushing my inner walls. No matter how slick and wet the area, and how slow and careful my finger is, this simple action causes my body to shudder; my mind deteriorates, and all I can think of is the need to repeat that simple movement; how I need more of it.

My middle finger replaces the index finger, reaching even deeper inside me, filling me up even better, while the other hand claws in the weak flesh of my breasts, alternating between the two of them. I involuntarily arch my back, hold my breath, and my finger goes in all the way. I tremble, and hiss when my finger can't get any deeper. Desperately, it wiggles; it tickles my inside, sending waves of guilty pleasure through my body. I pull it out, but I can't help it moving in again, deliciously rubbing the walls on its way.

It is not enough; my body demands more. So, with both index and middle finger now covered with my wetness, I let them enter together, providing a little bit better that feeling of fullness. Chris kept telling me his carrot wasn't big, but I think he only said so to make me feel less guilty about my breasts; to distract my attention from my shapeless body. His carrot was big enough to fill me up completely; it shouldn't have been any bigger. Even two of my fingers are no match for his carrot, but this is all I can get for now.

Two fingers are better than one, and their friction once more takes my breath away.

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