. always waiting... and wanting. I gasp and let out a sharp cry as I feel the first touch of something, more shock than pain. My mind processes the ...eeling, the sensation, and I realize it is a light touch, feathery, sleek. It could, indeed, be a feather... or fringe of a blanket... perhaps his hair. I can only imagine, not determine, as the touches and teases continue. The feathery feeling is gone now, replaced with something cold and wet... an ice cube? a popscicle? his fingers, dipped. I love being bent over in doggy having my pussy rammed, although I love my boyfriends cock, no matter how hard he fucks it just isn't the same. The last few months had been hard on us, with Christmas, work and other stresses we started fighting more and more. We would still have sex but it just wasn't the same. He stopped going down on me and his cock alone just wasn't enough. I was frustrated and he was too. Finally last week after a fight we called it quits. For a few days we had limited. More

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