But she got drunker and drunker, wondering when he would just relax and they could go into a bedroom.Whenever she did see him she started kissing him,...so out of it. He acted annoyed, not nearly as drunk as she. He kept telling her to sit down. She pouted, but he didn't notice. She felt stupid; pouting was something she would do with Ryan, kidding with him to get her way. Then she was annoyed at him, thinking what a fool he was to tell her to sit down when he could get laid instead. She felt. My earlier orgasm had knocked the edge off it for me and I was able to absorb his actions and movements; listen to his grunts and the body slapping sounds of the fucking. I loved it. Loved the feel of it, the thought of it and the raw action of it. I thought about the look of it. What does it look like? What do I look like doing this? How can I see myself? I pictured his stiff cock sliding into me, coated in my slime and the left over cum. This triggered off the deep stirring. . More

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