Handful of chestnut coloured curls

Chloe was kneeling quietly next to my bed. I was naked except for the outrageously expensive high-heels Paul bought me. My fingernails were digging into the Irishman’s muscular buttocks. I was lying on my back, my legs drawn up and separated and I pulled his body against mine, his fabulous dick inside my cunt, fucking me hard at the remorseless tempo my talons dictated. It was vicious. At the deepest point of penetration his cock would swell and batter my cervix. He filled me, I could hardly breathe. I was gasping as he fucked me, my body felt empty of all its strength, but I relished the masculine energy Ted powerfully demonstrated. As I lay beneath him I utterly belonged to him as his bollocks unloaded their contents deep into my cunt.

He fell against me, I was crushed beneath him. I felt his chest vibrate as his ribcage expanded to grasp the available oxygen in the room and his heartbeat pounded. The sweat from his torso mingled with beads of perspiration that formed over my breasts. We lay together for a while, catching our breath.

When he slipped out of me I could feel his semen ooze between my labia, his spunk spilled between my legs and pooled onto the cotton sheet.

The Irishman signalled to my house-guest. The teenager rose to her feet and approached the bed, she settled onto the sheet between my open legs. I grasped a handful of her chestnut coloured curls and pulled her face to my five blue stars. Her tongue entered me so she could taste the glorious freshness of my just fucked cunt.