"Yes OMG baby fuck me harder, take what’s yours NOW BABY NOW" moaning as the water splashes into my mouth. Pushing me so you can lead us back to the...shallower end of the pool; staying deep inside me as we reach the stairs. My hands walking up them as my upper body is out of the water you continue to walk till I’m completely out and on all fours. You begin to fuck me like never before from behind, grabbing my hips and pushing with all your force into my soaking wet pussy. I arch my back needing. I’m still doing so. In a sense I can say I’m being driven to do it or rather it’s happening and I can either embrace it or fight it. Something like this happened to me in my mid twenties and I fought it and it nearly killed me. You can see part of it reflected in “The Freya Cycle” I was fundamentally changing as a person and I didn’t like it. I fought it because I was scared of becoming something unknown. I’m a stubborn bastard. I fought until I went borderline insane in the clinical sense of. When it was about to be over, we left the cinema hall a few minutes early. We jumped on each other, kissing and biting our lips while running hands on one another. I then quickly drove my car to a nearby resort and booked a room, and got in.As soon as I locked the door, she pounced on me, showering me with kisses. I lifted her to the bed and dropped her, and jumped on top of her. . Her actions were completely different from the gentle lady I picked up just a few hours ago. She started biting me. "Anything will be fine mum," I said, handing her a glass to put away. "I can always use some socks." Socks," she said. Since I had first gotten my first hard-on, I had craved after my mother. Obsessed over her is a better word. Once a day at least, I'd lay in bed at night, cock in hand, slowly stroking myself to mental images of kissing her, undoing her bra, unbuttoning her blouse, unzipping her skirt. A thousand times I had sex with her in my fantasies. fondled her large 38D breasts, kissed.