Campsite shower sexCampsite shower sex

Babes

I’ve been wanting to share this torrid little adventure of mine for ages, in the hope that it makes you, lovely reader, as wet or as hard as does my own reading of the wonderful Lush stories. Firstly, a little presentation. My name is Regina (yes I know, I’ve heard it all before! Thanks parents, for conceiving me whilst on holiday in Saskatchewan). I’m a 23 year old student of psychology, a blond bombshell standing at 5 feet 3 inches and 103 pounds dripping wet. Doesn’t stop me having a juicy upper deck and a booty box that can make even the most faithful of husbands question the reason for his spontaneous, pant-deforming erection when I squirm my way through his line of sight! I am lucky enough to possess an innocent demeanour that is particularly attractive to red-blooded men (horny women too, thank heavens!), making them wonder how such an angelic face can be stuck onto such a small frame with such big lady-bumps, must be a real slut in bed, etc. Anyway, this particular adventure dates from the summer when etimesgut escort I was just 18 years old. We had gone off camping with my sister, her current beau, his brother and of course, my good self. I was seeing someone at the time but here in France, holiday sex doesn’t count as cheating. As you can imagine, I found myself sharing a tent with the brother of my sister’s current cock: 26 years old and admittedly, extremely easy on the eyes! Campsites are not particularly recognized for facilitating private moments of intimacy and so (being a bit of a squealer when the fires are stoked), I expected nothing from my holidays other than a decent tan and possibly a little short-term liver damage from the local red grape juice. However, from the get-go, Fabien (my tent buddy), teased me gently; throwing me in the pool, cracking jokes at night in the tent and other such puerile holiday behaviour. This soon evolved into inadvertent thigh stroking, elbow-to-breast pressing and general eryaman escort little signs designed to give your pussy a mind of her own, independent of the sensible one lodged in your cranial cavity. Things really developed towards the end of our first week, when his constant teasing and attention-paying started to weaken my resolve. I was seeing him all day long in tight little swim trunks and my pussy brain was telling me that she wanted to use her internal ruler to measure the meaty bump permanently on display. I just needed to find a place and an opportunity where my sister couldn’t catch us in flagrant délit. Coming back from the beach at the start of the second week, I stopped off to rinse myself at the communal showers. Fabien was following behind. He watched me enter a cubicle and caught the door as it closed. I feigned shock, asking him what he thought that he was doing. He made it perfectly clear that, after a week of these little games, he was deserving of a reward. I sincan escort answered him with my best, most angelic smile and started removing the few clothes I had on. Fabien approached me and massaged my butt cheeks, pulling them apart with such determination that the wet ‘plop’ of my pussy lips parting gave away my own, thinly veiled hunger. His lips kissed their way languorously down my neck, eventually reaching my swelling breasts. He cupped one of them with one hand and explored gently between my legs with the other. He started to nibble on my erect nipples, licking and sucking them but I wanted infernal, not maternal. My pussy had been waiting far too long and she had a serious leak! I craved his tongue down there and fast. I needed eating hard and deep, it was no longer a choice but a medical emergency! He continued running his fingers over my mound, finding the source of my nectar and plunging a long finger into it whilst leaving his thumb windscreen-washing my seriously engorged clitty. My hands in his tousled hair made it clear where his face belonged right now. I guided him to my sopping cunt, I wanted him to taste my hunger, to drink from me, lick me, bite me, pull me, suck me, fuck me! At last, his tongue arrived at its destination and he started lapping at my rivers of girly juice.

Bir yanıt yazın

E-posta adresiniz yayınlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir