Desi GF Fucking Hard With BF At Home
Sitting, slumped and sticky in the same chair on which she just had the most incredible sex, Laurel turned to look at her computer desktop screen and at the icon of the program that had caused all this. Just staring, nothing else, her eyes started to well up and she began to sniffle. “What …am I becoming? …What have I become?” She gave herself a moment to sob in self pity. The program then became the target of her conversation. “I must never use you again. You did this to me. Where is the life I knew? What have you done? It has to stop!” She gave a brief pause in her reflection. “…But you’ve also given me pleasure I’ve never known, made me feel desired, wanted …and made me feel really alive for the first time since I can remember. I know I should do, but right now what I really need most is for you to take me there once more.” Before she could convince herself otherwise, a part of her brain double clicked on the icon. And like the calm expectant moment an addict may experience once. ’ I replied, taking a mojito out of his hand, ‘I happen to love seeing you in your work clothes too.’ A smile spread across my face. He looked down at his worn blue button up and mid thigh khaki shorts. A snort escaped his lips. ‘Are you ever going to stop teasing me for that?’ He asked, taking a sip from his drink. ‘Am I? Probably not. I mean, come on! I didn’t even know you could make a living off of writing erotica until I met you. I really fucking missed out when they were handing out jobs at the job factory.’ I teased, unbuttoning the top button of my blouse. ‘I can’t argue with that. It does have its downsides though. Can’t exactly go home and tell mom and pop about my work, now can I?’ ‘Oh please, like that matters. You think I like going home and telling my folks about the wonderful life of being an accountant? God I really needed this today though. Work was getting to be a bit of a drag.’ I took a sip of my mojito as I followed Chris out to the back of the house. The house.
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