My hand worked between us, hard on my clit. No matter how slow or comfortable or lazy it started, I couldn't come without the rough friction of a fing...r or his tongue. And always, as I clenched around his cock, he'd thrust three or four more times, hard. Deep into my pussy, intense thrusts. And we'd finish together. Sweaty and slick, sliding against each other as the lawn chair creaked and groaned under our combined weight.Being married was easy, but living in the city was hard. I waited tables. That led to how our relationship worked. Naturally, she knew that I liked her and so she was flirtatious and condescending at the same time. She would change in front of me, but ask me to turn around and not look, knowing that I would sneak a peek. She would make out with her girlfriend in front of me while we were high and she always had an air of superiority. It was frustrating but when I stopped going to raves I stopped seeing her. She was deeper than ever. It wasn't about the dance scene. More

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