, in my den, with the blinds cracked, in my favorite chair, with my knees drawn up and my heels planted at the end of the seat cushion. My Toshiba net...ook was propped comfortably against my thighs, and I started pecking away. I always write like this, in my corduroy chair with a pitcher of Margarita chilled in the fridge and a glass beside my chair. I get weed from a friend at work; four grams in a baggy sat alongside my chair that night, the same baggy you'll see in the story. I was not smoked. It was out of the way and the band drowned out any amount of noise you made back there. It was 11 o’clock. I left the lights out as planned. I lifted my dress and gave my pussy a good rubbing. A little tug on the lips, then some clit, back to the lips. I wiped my juices all around. I was excited, I had a good flow going. I bent over the chair just a couple minutes before the door opened.As he continued to thrust I thought of the pain versus pleasure debate. He was hitting my cervix. I turned on the shower and we frolicked under it for some time – hugging and kissing various part of the body in turns. In spite of his protestation, I managed to take his cock in my mouth now and then. We soaped each other and I made sure that I would present a clean cock and hole for him to attend to. We continued to frolic under the shower and finally ended up toweling each other dry – paying special attention to the cock, balls and ass. I was glad he was not hairy and was to my liking.We. ”She looked over her shoulder at me and the nerves were playing a game of tag with the emotions of hunger and lust as they ran across her lips, in through her eyes and over every cell of flesh on her face. I decided it was time. “Sarah, show me the bedroom. Now.” I said it firmly and quietly but with a steely resolve. She reached for my hand and said it was through the double doors that she led me through.I stopped and turned her toward me and looked down in her eyes. Her face was flush.