Faster. Deeper. Wetter.Masturbating as I did. Sucking my own fingers clean. Tasting it.Instead, I watched.When I saw his hips move -- just slightly --... I knew it was time.***He could hear the buckles of the device.His head turned toward me as I sat next to him on the bed, moving the device around in my hands to determine which end was which. Unfastening the buckles, I listened to his breathing. Felt him moving on the bed.His lips were parted, eagerly.My eyes peered over, my hands moving through. She remembered being terribly nervous about putting her panties in the laundry because they bore evidence of his making her moist between her legs on every night of necking. She remembered resting her arm on his thigh and finding the warm, firm length of his cock there against her soft virginal flesh. The windows would steam over in cold winter nights as he pressed it against her mound through tight blue jeans. When he tried to press her down where her lips might have found his cock, she. More

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