There was a new intensity to Sandra’s demeanour. She hadn’t forgotten her playful toy. She was hot. She was dirty. She was impatient. She wanted ...ucked. A whisper of movement, the fire of passion sweeping away the need for caution, a wanting woman driven by irresistible urges, a woman craving for fulfilment, an impatient woman desperate to feel his awesome limb filling her body again. Impulse flirting with expectation, excitement courting danger, the closeness of two bodies coming together. She would toss herself backward onto the bed and pull Berkeley on top of her. He would kiss her between the legs, but she would insist, "Come inside me," and tug at him until he crouched over her, put her legs over his shoulders, wet his penis with saliva, and slid it inside her. The soft, wet walls of her vagina gripped the entire surface of his penis as he moved it gently back and forth within her. Zoann wouldn't kiss or hug him but would lie back, her arms outspread and whimper as her body. More

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