Sometimes You Just Know

I knew he'd feel good inside me.


My body began to moisten in anticipation of receiving him inside me. My nipples hardened.  My pulse quickened.  I felt a slight hint of perspiration on the underside of my breasts, down my spine, as if my body was already responding to the sex I knew would feel so good. A minute earlier, I had not even been thinking about sex.  Okay, you caught me, I'm Dolly Jewel, of course I was thinking about sex, I always think about sex.  What I meant was, a minute earlier I had not been thinking about sex with any one specific lover, nor a time nor a place.


I wanted him.  Right then.  Right there. No, more than "wanted him."  Try "needed him." Yes, that's how I felt. I craved having him inside me, tasting him, tasting myself on his fingers, his lips, feeling him bring me to the explosive state of being that we go to when we cum hard.


Problem was, we had just been introduced.  Webb was his name.  Webb and I had not previously met.  We were two people at a six person business luncheon.  Networking.  Marketing. How my financial advisory group could and should cross-refer clients to his law firm.  Whatever, at that point I was trying not to get frustrated that my real life was in the way of fucking this guy.


At least, I hoped he was interested in fucking me.  So far I had a handshake, "nice to meet you, you said it was 'Dolly', right?" and good eye contact.  With my eyes.  Sheesh guys, you can check out my body, too, maybe just regard me as a sexual object so that we can get past the preliminaries?


Okay, Dolly, calm down.  Sorry.  But I really felt something when I was introduced to him.  And there I was, in completely the wrong setting.


I was in a proper gray skirt and jacket, my heels were attractive but appropriate, my blouse was again, attractive, but it didn't hide my bust so much as it accentuated that my body was in hard-earned great shape.  He was in a glen plaid suit, medium blue, nice tailoring, white shirt, conservative oxford cap toe black shoes, striped tie.  Pocket square, nice touch.  Some sort of ivy league class ring.  And that wedding ring, plain gold.


I suppose Ken, my business colleague, was dressed in a suit too.  He usually does.  No memory of him.  I'd fucked Ken a couple years earlier.  Once because I wanted to manipulate him, and once to celebrate manipulating him and getting a great business result from that manipulation.  Then Ken got too whiney and was looking over his shoulder too much.  Married and hen-pecked, Ken did not prove to be a very well prepared participant in a meaningless workplace sexual affair.


Did I mention I'm the boss' daughter?


So Daddy was at the lunch, and then there was Webb.  Webb with green eyes, hazel almost.  They felt warm when I looked into those eyes.  He was somewhere around fifty.  Nice face, nice stylish glasses. Just enough gray in his dark brown hair to make him an almost sexy silver fox.  Well, almost silver.  Okay, almost sexy, too.  He wasn't a hunk, but really a handsome man.  Wore a suit well.  He had a couple colleagues.  I'm sure I have their business cards somewhere. 


Why did I want to fuck him that badly?  I'd just been laid two days earlier, so I wasn't hard up.  Well, two days IS a long time for me to go without sex.  Was that it?


Or was I being "evil Dolly", seeing a solid, respectable citizen and wanting to sexually corrupt him to prove that I can.


I do that.  Wedding rings sometimes attract me.  Most guys who wear one won't stalk after me following the sex, they don't want to mess up what they have at home.


I respect that.


Webb talked about having been a financial advisor "in a previous life"--his phrase.


"So how many lives have you led?" I asked.  Was that flirting, or just continuing the fun of his play on words?


"You mean the ones I'll admit to, or all of them?  I think I need to stick with the public disclosure version, seeing as we just met, Dolly."  He winked and smiled.


Thump in my chest where my heart was starting to speed up. I thought about the weight of his body resting on my hips, along my torso, somewhat supported by his elbows probably, maybe his knees depending how his legs might be bent or positioned while he fucks me.  See, already assuming that event as a "when", not an "if".  His lips on mine, maybe he's the type to clasp our fingers in an interlocked manner, press the back of my hands against the sheets while he has his way with me.  My lips on his neck, his lips on mine, or his nose in my ear as he inhales my perfume, my scent as he enters my body repeatedly. Feeling the skin on his back, his shoulders, his ass, starting to be enveloped in a thin sheen of sweat.  My pussy contracting around his manhood.  God, I hope to hell no one around me is asking me a business-related question, I'm so far gone in this fantasizing about when Webb fucks me.


Wondering what he's talking about out.  Oh, right, how many lives he's had, how many he'll admit too, he just said. (Before I mentally undressed him and mated with him.). Oh, a response to him...


"I'm tenacious, I'll just have to wear you down."


"So about your money management, do you do the buys and sells, or do you manage the managers?" he asks.  So much for sex.  For the moment.


But it had been nice -- I was working a good flirt on Webb, Daddy was rolling his eyes, but Webb went straight to core, job-related questions to profile our group. Playing hard to get.  I don't often have to work too hard to get the man I want.  How refreshing.  I can play this game.  I'm Dolly, I'm undefeated.  Well, pretty close, anyway.


We talked business, I had a farm to table vegetable plate, and I noticed Webb did, too.


Webb's colleagues ordered sushi.  The sushi looked excellent.  I was offered and tried a piece. The server had brought chop sticks for everyone at this sushi fusion meets farm to table sustainable restaurant. 


Webb's colleague told us all, "Please, everyone, please try, I've over-ordered and the platter is way too big, I just wanted everyone to have the opportunity to sample.  Please."


It was excellent.  "Webb, there's chop sticks for you, you should try some."  I wanted to engage him one on one while the other conversations went on about client profile between Daddy and Webb's partner and about school districts between Webb's female colleague, the sushi orderer, and his other partner.  They were a big firm, maybe they didn't know each other that well?


Later on I learned that was a wrong guess about them not knowing each other -- as it turns out, they did know each other.  Well enough that they were fucking.  The school district talk was actually affair-related, as one of the clandestine lovers had already decided her marriage was over and was plotting the next step in her life.  When I later found out about the affair, I thought the most fun part of the secret screwing was that they were both women, both good looking, and at least pleasantly feminine.  And both married to men who had not a clue.  How hot is that!


Webb looked side to side, realized we were not being monitored in our small talk and explained he was declining the sushi, "because I've tried and failed to master chop sticks over the past quarter century, and its just poor form to eat sushi with my fingers here at a business lunch in the United States."


"So you're saying you eat sushi with your fingers when it’s not business?"


"It’s the only way I know how.  Funny that I can't make chop sticks work, I've tried in Chinatown in New York, San Francisco, Vancouver, and in Shanghai, along with every Chinese restaurant I've ever been in.  Not happening.  Otherwise, I'm pretty good with my hands."


And then he blushed.


"Um, what I meant was...." but I reached across and took his hand in mine to cut off his explanation.  His hand was warm.  I felt his hand welcome mine.  I felt a caress returned from his hand to mine.  More pussy moisture, my bodily responses to my desire.


"Oh please don't explain, let a lonely old spinster like me imagine that you meant something private that you ordinarily wouldn't have meant to share until you knew someone much more intimately."


Shit, was I pushing my luck or what? Daddy heard that last one, I saw him flinch but continue his conversation with Webb's partner.


"You're not nearly a spinster, Dolly, knock that off.  Not by a couple decades.  And if you're lonely, then that has to be by choice.  No need to explain that, nobody here is blind."


Okay, he did notice.  And his eyes lowered after he finished talking.  And his hand lingered in mine but he released.


A few minutes and bites of locally grown vegetables later, Webb's foot touched mine from across the table, and he nodded to me and said, "If you'd like some lawyer introductions, there's an annual bar association reception next Thursday at the Irish Pub across from the Ritz Carlton.  I'd be happy for you to attend as my guest and make some introductions for you."


His eyes stayed on mine.  His foot stayed on mine.


"Love to."


"I'll text you." he said.  Webb didn't have my cell number.  I put my hand out and asked for his phone.  I entered the information myself.


"Until next Thursday" we said as we shook hands at the end of the lunch.


During the weekend in between, at my parents’ house, Daddy took me aside.


"Dolly, dearest, I know you're going to that bar association reception with Webb. You do know they are a big prominent firm. Please dear, let me introduce you to some nice, available men I know...."


I smiled, took my father's handsome face in my hands, kissed him on the cheek.  "Daddy," I started.


"Okay, I'll but out.  Please don't do anything that would embarrass your mother, okay darling?'


"Daddy!  You know that was one time only.  And besides, Webb isn't Mom's personal trainer, this isn't anywhere close to home like that one time.  And c'mon, Jose was so sexy...."


Daddy exhaled.  He kissed my hands as he peeled them from where I'd lowered them to his shoulders.  "Don't hurt anyone." 


Did he mean emotionally?


Or was he referring to the injuries the aforementioned Jose Fuentes, my mother's former personal trainer, suffered when he and I were having hot standing missionary sex and I tried to make it standing reverse cowgirl, which might not actually exist but he was so buff and ripped and smooth skinned, fully waxed, and I just wanted to have him in all parts of my body from all angles.  Some folks just can't handle acrobatic sex.  I pity the fools.


"Daddy, I'm a big girl."


"Lord, bless my daughter, and protect the men she sets her sights upon.  You've gifted her very well...."  He kissed my cheek, a dear father who accepts who am I and loves me, but still worries and never stops being a parent.  Wouldn't have it any other way.


He went back to his home office to tend to a little business, and get his slutty daughter off his mind.  I swear, I don't intentionally drive him crazy.  This is who I am.


Now, about Webb....




What is it about a classic charcoal gray, pinstripe suit, white shirt, power tie, cufflinks, wing tips....ooooh, shivers down my spine as I think about a reception room full of lawyers.  And I was the registered guest of Webb, and that's how he was dressed.  I was dressed in a business appropriate suit, but the color was fire engine red. Shoes, mani-pedi, thong all matched.


Nobody ever called me subtle.


When I saw Webb, he was speaking with some judges and other senior leadership of the local bar association.  A circle of six or so men.  Webb saw me, nodded slightly toward me while still listening to a judge.  The judge who was speaking I didn't know, but I'd seen on television.  Another judge looked like he'd just seen a ghost when he saw me.  "Nice to see you again, too, your honor..." I thought.  I really do not expect my former Dolly dates to respond like that on the rare occasion where we might bump into each other.  If I can be a cool customer, shouldn't a judge be able to have a poker face, too?  Since I'm not naming him or which court he serves on, I'll just add that he had a below average sized pecker and came in about two minutes.  And there was no second round to be had.  I of course was gracious and praised how much I loved his company.  He'd seemed happy when he left, in spite of the "performance" issues.  And now I see that look on his face.  I swear, for what I do for some of these men, they should be paying me.  Oh, wait, they ARE paying me.  Usually, any way.


Webb wasn't.  I just wanted him.


And the other member of that half-dozen lawyers in the discussion circle whom I'd already been in bed with (pretty random, but what are the odds, I was two for six, with Webb in my sights to bring it up to three of six) was totally cool, shook my hand, said "nice to meet you" when introduced, even though I knew damn well he knew who I was.  Since it had only been a few days since I'd ridden him like a Triple Crown jockey.  No one was any the wiser.  The instant tent in his slacks was all the affirmation this girl needed.  And the email that was waiting when I got home (much later, for sexual encounter reasons I'm still leading up to) was also nice to find, requesting another Dolly date.  He moaned about how jealous he was to see me with another man when I did meet up with him several days later.  How sexy it was to know I was going to fuck another man. 


I reminded him I showed up alone.


"You didn't leave alone." he countered.


I never leave alone, if I don't want to. Since you were taken, I had to settle for someone else."


He smiled, thinking back to our first date, looking forward to the rest of that date, and without a clue about my adventurous date with Webb that would follow.


A few others elsewhere in the room were "friends" as well.  *Wink. 


Webb extracted himself from his group, walked over, greeted me as I finished putting the magnetic name tag on, and asked if he could escort me to the bar to get a drink.


I placed my arm through his, and said without a trace of subtlety, "I'll let you escort me anywhere, kind sir, your company is my desire."


A nice bulge in his trousers started to sprout.  I love when I can have that effect on a gentleman.  Or even on a guy who's not such a gentleman.


And the conversation just flowed.  He made some introductions to some lawyers he knew whose clients might also need my services, and I introduced him to some lawyers I knew who might have a chance to refer him some business.  And our eyes kept meeting, and our fingers would touch and not back away, when passing a wine glass or reaching for a napkin, our pulling out a chair.


I felt so fully lubricated standing close to him as the party got more and more crowded.  I felt "it" poke me.


The reception was winding down, though the pub was plenty crowded and would remain that way for the rest of the evening. I caught him thinking, kind of staring, not in a creepy way, but in the trying to get his nerve up way.  So I cut to the chase.


"Do you have an early curfew or can you stay out a while?"


"I'm good," he said.  Talk about an invitation for a smartass sexy slutty comeback!


"I'm sure you are, Webb, I just wanted to see if we have enough time for me to reach that conclusion based on my own experience in private with you, or do I have to just take your word for it that you're good and go home all worked up and frustrated."


An out loud laugh was his reply.  THAT got his attention.  What a great smile followed that laugh.  Sexiest thing a man can wear, I swear, is a smile.


"As a precaution against over-indulging, I booked a room across the street at the Ritz" he told me.  Then he waited.  But not for long.


I stepped closer, facing him, stood up on my tip-toes to reach his ear, "Good precaution.  I've got other precautions in my little handbag here, but I WOULD like you to indulge and use my precautions.  Would love to see your hotel room."


No one could see that I was cupping his package, through his trousers, and he felt nice, thick, and close to fully ready.  He gasped, and then his eyes lasered onto mine.


"Squeeze once for a quick shot and a beer, squeeze twice for a slow comfortable screw" he whispered into my ear, then nipped my lobe with his teeth, which made me shiver and made my nipples even harder.


"We're not talking drink orders, are we?"  I sought to confirm.


"That's not drinks, no."


I slowly squeezed his shaft through his pants, combined with a firm stroke, first once, then twice, and I felt his cock pulse back.  Then I felt his hand remove mine from his dick, our fingers clasped, interwoven, a mutual covenant of illicit sex sealed. "A third time and you've have made me spill my drink.  And no, I'm not literally talking about drinks."


He told me his room number, again his lips to my ears, only now his hands on my waist, feeling so intimate, so close, so simpatico. He slipped an extra card key into my hand. "Ten minutes."


"Can't wait that long, see you there in five.  Now go."




The lights were low, and there were bottled waters and glasses.  The bed had been turned down and there were flowers, that's what I saw when I entered.  Then I heard the water.  He was showering.  Internally I was glad, it was getting late and he'd probably been in that suit, those boxers, since six or seven a.m.  I was getting him fresh and clean.  Mmmmm, ready to be licked everywhere.  And whatever I lick is mine to keep.  That's how Dolly rolls.


I decided to return the favor and left my dress and what few strands of fabric passed for anything I had on beneath on a chair and stepped into the shower.  No words.  We embraced, he leaned his face down, our mouths met, our lips dancing for a second before finding the proper angle, and our tongues began their exchange program of visiting each other's mouths. My fingers on his wet skin, his on my body.  He'd been in the shower for a couple minutes, his hands were warm from the shower.  I wanted those hands everywhere on me.


And in me.


I pressed my body to Webb's.  More body hair than I would have expected, not quite in as good shape as I thought when he was clothed, but to me a good looking man is someone with good hygiene, who shows evidence of self-pride, whose eyes can catch mine instead of being distracted by my tits the entire time we meet (a little peeking is okay, I love my girls, too!), and a penis.  If the penis isn't hard, let me have a little time to work my Dolly magic--I've have your cock ready for action very quickly.


Webb didn't need any help.  He was such a good kisser that I hated to release any of my embrace, God we were really making out, but I slid a hand from where I'd been wrapping my fingers around the back of his head down to his dick and felt the hard shaft and smooth helmet that was bumping me.  I knelt, looked up, and gave one long, slow lick up from where the cock vanishes into the scrotum all the way to where his circumcised head was straining, then traced a circle around the collar of that head where it attached to the shaft.  No words from Webb, just his mouth open in wonder, as if he didn't want to disturb the scene.


But he was part of the scene.  I grasped his hips, then his ass while gradually taking him more and more deeply into my mouth, then my throat.  I'd like to tell you how I teased him on the edge and kept him trapped in intolerable pleasure.  But I'd be lying, and this story is not a fairy tale -- Webb did not resist his urge to fuck my throat and I moaned onto that excited sex tool and he spurted into my mouth, coating my tongue, and I swallowed all of his seed.  He deflated rapidly, and as he finally made a sound ("Oh my God, since I first laid eyes on you....") I giggled. 


I stood, and moved in for a kiss -- this is a key moment with a man, will he kiss me after cumming in my mouth?


Webb got an "A" on that test.  "Fucking amazing," he mumbled into my mouth.  His fingers playing with my coochie. I reached down and re-positioned two of his fingers, then moved his hand in mine so that he was rubbing me just the way I'd frig myself if I was alone and wanted to cum.  Soon, he had the rhythm down and my hands found elsewhere to play, his nipples and mine, and as I hissed instructions to him (followed sexual direction well -- if he does that at home, bet she's happy) he did as I wanted and soon I shook and my head dropped, eyes squeezing shut and my body's squirts pleased him in the milliseconds before the Dolly sauce was washed away in the shower. 


"Let's towel off, I need to lie down," I told him.  More kissing.  Geez I wanted to feel that tongue where his fingers had just been.



Webb actually surprised me, he seemed to get reflective, contemplative, and hesitant as we were drying ourselves and each other off, all while I was trying to be a friendly, fun and sexy GFE for him.  I'd seen this before.


I sat on the king sized bed, one leg tucked under and one hanging over the side of the bed and the robe barely closed so my nipples were hidden but plenty of tanned, busty skin shone.  My damp hair kind of half in front of my shoulders, and the rest down my back.  He was quiet, getting waters from the mini-fridge.


"It’s okay, you know, Webb. I'm loving being here with you, but I'm not going to mess with your outside life at all."


His shoulders seemed to relax, and he exhaled.


He handed me the water, sat beside me, opened his water and took a long drink from the bottle.  "Dolly, I've never done this before..." he began. 


The guilts.  He had them.  Not to worry, I can cure that, too.


"Never done what?  Fucked?  Webb darling, not to worry, you must have noticed that I sucked your lovely cock and it works fine.  But surely you've fucked a woman before, you have a family and all, don't you?"


He smiled at my sarcasm.  "No, you know what I mean.  I've never cheated on my wife."


The "C" word.  No, not "cunt".  A word I dislike, by the way.  No, for me, the "C" word is "cheat".  People cheat at cards and golf or on their taxes.  Not in sex.  I took his hand. 


"Webb, it’s okay, we're consenting adults, we both wanted this, and I want to make you happy.  Won't your home life be better if you're happy?"


"Yes, sure, I guess, it’s not you, I didn't mean to offend you...." poor guilty man was babbling. Sigh.  He'd been so flirtatious, I really had not expected this, seemed like what he wanted right up until I walked into the bedroom in the robe from our shower.  You know, the shower in which he fucked my mouth. Not his fault, this hot sex lifestyle has many mixed signals.


Or maybe Daddy was right about someone getting hurt?


Dr. Dolly to the rescue.  Not that I hurt him, but if he's hurting, I'll heal him.


So I shut him up by kissing him, and his mouth pretty much melted into mine, and we set the waters down and embraced.  The towel he had wrapped around his waist fell open.  His dick was waking up.


I broke off the kiss, then pecked at his full bottom lip.


"If you had a hurt, or were feeling sick, you'd go to a doctor, right?"


He nodded in agreement.


"If you wanted me, then that was a need you felt.  I loved meeting that need for you.  I wanted you from the first I met you.  This doesn't go any farther, the rest of your world is still intact, Webb but for now, you, me, here, you were feeling too much pleasure to now feel bad ....." I trailed off and touched his cock, which was now warm and firm to my touch.  "I won't do anything to hurt you and I'm assuming you're willing to make the same commitment to me."


Then I stopped talking.


His eyes looked up.  Then they met mine and he smiled.


"I guess, its just...."


"I'm flattered that I'm your first extra-marital.  I happen to be a woman who knows what she wants, and I know when a man wants me, and you're great, and if we can have other meet-ups, I'd love that.  You know how hard it is to meet a man like you?  Not easy.  Please make love to me, fuck me if you please, but trust me you can leave your worries over there by the door."


I rubbed his chest with the hand that wasn't stroking his cock.


I kissed him again, and felt that cock twitch. "I'm going to take that as a yes."  He smiled.


"Thanks, Dolly, you really are just what I need.  Just sort of hit me, but I hope I didn't scare you off.  A woman like you asking me to fuck you just now, yeah, it's definitely all good.'  His cock grew a bit more.  Game on.


"Don't move, Webb, I'm going to just get my bag."


I retrieved a condom, and knelt again at his knees, and gave a few playful licks just before I unrolled the condom on his nice, pussy-filling cock.


Since you're still here and we're both naked and you let me put a condom on you, I hope that means I'm going to find out if your tongue feels as good on my clit and on my pussy lips and even inside me as that tongue feels when its inside my mouth.


I positioned myself on the bed, and he moved between my thighs.


"What'll it be with your sweet sex pie, Webb, soft gasps and sighs, or would a dirty talking slut seeking no strings attached cock get you excited?  Gentleman's choice."


Another smile.  He should smile more often. ”I’m sure as hell going to make him smile" was my thought.


"Um, that slutty option sounded hot."

I smiled a crooked grin, gyrated my hips, and begged him on, "Jesus Webb, all you had to do was ask, taste me, see how fucking wet you've made me.  Just imagine you and me fucking each other hard and long up here while a bunch of white haired lawyers in expensive suits drink house poured wine downstairs and try to generate referrals. Did you see all the eyes on me as I left the party, you're about to lick and fuck the very pussy they all wish was going to be milking their old withered dicks tonight while you wreck me."


And suddenly fingers were spreading my labia and his tongue was lapping at my sex nectar, varying speeds in no apparent pattern, and I encouraged him.


"Oh God, yes, that's it, daddy, make me yours, lick me all night then fuck me the rest of the night."


I know, there is no "rest of the night" when he's licked me all night.  I'd asked for the impossible.  It wasn't an accident.  I want my lovers to strive for the impossible.  When they fall short, they'll still have had their best sex ever if their goal was that lofty.


Then he slowed, his hands on the inside of my thighs, his fingers slid along my legs, and I sensed he was doing a mini-muscle worship and so I tensed a flexed my running, biking and yoga toned legs a bit.  I pumped my hips into his face.  And then I slid a finger or two (or was it three!?) down to my clit, and his tongue followed.  Perhaps a transcript excerpt from my road to orgasm would be something you'd like to see:


"Oh God, mmmm, fuck, ahhh, yessss ... mmmm, oh, OH!  Oh God, ugh, uughh, mmm, fuck YES! Lick it baby, ooooh, please, harder, take it baby, fucking eat me, make me your slut, use me but fuck don't stop....oooh, fuck yes, fuck fuck...."


I usually don't swear that much.  It was making him happy, He was making me happy.  With all my attention focused on his personal emotional crisis it had slipped my mind to get some strategically placed towels down on the bed.  Oops.  Hope to hell they replaced that bed spread.  Lotta liquid Dolly must have soaked in, though lucky me there was still plenty of Dolly flavor on his face when my tremors subsided and I told him to "bring that pussy licking face up to mine and let me taste my fucking pussy"  from his mouth while he kissed me and fucked me.  I guided his cock in, and he took me deep in one hard, fast push.


Some clawing, some lip sucking, it was frantic and he was all heated up.  I'd cum, and we didn't have ALL night and I wanted to damn well make sure he did.


Not to worry.  Maybe ten pumps into missionary screwing I told him, "fuck me dirty from behind, let me turn over, then fuck me good and hard, you can't hurt me, but if you try to fuck me so hard it will hurt it will feel so fucking good for both of us."


I was on all fours, he re-positioned himself, and I just started to sense his sweat dripping on me when he cried out and went still and stiff, with a pulsing inside me.  Then he slumped forward, hands wrapped around me, my abs, then my tits, then one hand to my freshly fucked pussy while the other tweaked my nipple.  We spooned. Mmmmm, hard, fast, satisfying.  Nothing wrong with that picture.


He kissed the back of my neck.  "I was too quick."


"You were great, you made me cum, I felt you cum."


"Fuck, Dolly, how did you make me cum so fast when I'd already cum in your mouth?"


"Because we both wanted this from the first time we met.  I did.  You did too."


"I did, Dolly, fuck this is so amazing."


Then, the sweetest thing.  Nothing, actually.  Neither of us spoke again for a while,  We cuddled, touched, soft sweet kisses, held hands, touched each other's bodies.  My internal clock caught up to me, though.


"Webb, we both need to clean up.  I want you more, but tonight I'm all taken care of. We'll find time."


He squeezed me, and then said, "Why don't you shower first, I'll have to stay here or I'd try to fuck you again and you're right, we don't have time.  Tonight, anyway."




There you have it.  I just knew.  He did feel good inside me.  His weight on my body just made me want to wrap my legs around him and grit my teeth and hiss, 'fuck me hard, right there".  So did he.  And the rest of my get-togethers with Webb?  Maybe I'll share sometime, but I'll have to ask him if he's cool with another blog story the next time he and I play hooky together.



Purely fictional fantsy for your reading pleasure!

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