As she moves to remove her knickers, he asks her to wait.. He has been wondering if it is possible to get his cock into her while she is still wearing them. But that only gives her another idea. She says, “Are they important for you? I don’t mind. Do you like the colour - midnight blue, it’s called?” She turns round and bends forward, stretching them across her arse. “If my knickers get you going perhaps you would like me to lie across your lap so you can spank me.” She is already pulling him back on to the sofa and getting herself into position. Terry has no experience of spanking but it doesn’t need much figuring out. First, though, he lets his left hand reach under her body to grasp the tit that is hanging down. His right hand smooths the silky fabric of the knickers across her buttocks. She widens her legs so he can feel between, pushing the sopping gusset into her cunt. “Nice,” she says. “Now go for it.” He raises a hand and brings it down on a taut backside. And again. After. The concept of yesterdays is gone. The mere idea of tomorrow is non-existent. It is hard enough to grasp the present, the integrity of her flesh. Hard enough to trust this centrifugal maelstrom of feelings and emotions. This constant arousal, this aching lust. Electric currents jab at her. They make her skin ripple, her spine arch.There always is the hunger, the need to taste the white slimy cream. To swallow it and paint her face with it. To feel it spurt over her tits and belly. The scent of it, the taste.There is the craving need to quench the fire in the central void of her being. There are the gaping throats of her flesh. She wants them filled, stretched to the limit. She wants them drowned in boiling liquids, seep with juices, leak with come. Come, the magic word... cummmmmmm.She is always almost there... her weak hand claws to reach. To reach he edge, eternal edge, oh god get me there... there. Her nails scratch, cruel irons bite her flesh. There are the throbbing nipples,.
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