After several more silent moments she turned on her side, reached and placed her hand on my chest. “You okay?”I sat up. Exhaled slowly. “I will ...e.”“I’m sorry.”“No, you’re not … that’s okay though.”She didn’t say anything. Her hand lay on the bed between us.“It didn’t mean anything.” She said. “It was just sex.”“Yeah … I understand.”She didn’t say anything for several long moments. “You’re mad.”“I’m not mad. I’m hurt. Maybe I’ll get mad later, but right now this is difficult for me.”She said,. She drank a little to much, not really drunk but my mom suggested I drive her home when the party broke up. On the way to her house Laura and I talked politely about nothing. I parked in the driveway and turned to say goodnight; something happened our eyes locked. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds I don't know. I do know, I wanted her and for the first time in my life, she wanted me. We both leaned in at the same moment and started making out. It was my first French kiss, I had eighteen years of. She clawed my shoulders and back as I drove my cock through her clinging pussy hole and sent ripples of pleasure racing up her spine.Iiiieeeeeeeeeeee!!! She screamed, finally. Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh! I was grinding her into the sofa now. My hips and cock and chest dominated her completely. She held on tight and went along for the ride.Ooooh! Harder, Behanchod! Fuck me harder! She teased my asshole with her middle finger as my hard ass moved at will between her thighs. Oh, yes! She cried, supping and. I was sixteen and having sex regularity, so much so that I was not fazed, in fact outside wearing my pink little number, I started experimenting with getting turned-on, especially on nights I was out and not wearing it.On this night in particular I was wearing it, I added spice by wearing stockings and belt, a thong but went braless, as my nipples would stick through the woollen netting of the material.We went down to the next village pub and I sat in a small alcove while my boyfriend went to.