“Huge. And I’m definitely not talking about your penis.” She sounded breathy.
“Wren, are you still in bed?”
“Yep. It’s really early here.”
“Where’s your hand right now?”
She groaned. “It must be talking about buildings that’s doing it.”
“Or my cock.”
“Hmmm. I haven’t orgasmed since we left the country.”
“And you’re choosing to do it now when I’m standing about twelve metres away from a monkey and I have a hard on that’s about to burst?”
“That hard on could be doing so much more good right here.”
I shook my head, wishing for somewhere more private. “How many fingers have you got in you?”
“Just one.”
“Put another one in. How do you feel?”
“Tight. I’m dying to come.” She gave a little moan that told me she wasn’t that far off.
“What are you thinking about?”
“You. When you finger me from behind. Or in the lift last week when I had a skirt on and you fingered me on the tube.”
It had been busy, rush hour, and she’d changed after work into a top that didn’t do anything to hide the size and shape of her tits. I couldn’t take my eyes off them and she’d laughed at how much of a fuck wit I was being. So I’d had revenge while we travelled home, playing with her ass, sliding my hand down the back of her skirt and fingering her pussy until she was near to coming. We hadn’t made it into the bedroom and thankfully Seph was working late, so I’d fucked her against the door once it was closed, pushing her skirt up over her hips and shredding her panties. She’d begged for it to be hard and I’d left bruises on her ass afterwards which still turned me on when I thought about them. I’d marked her.
I told her what I was going to do to her when I saw her next, described how she was going to come and was thankful for the fact that the monkeys couldn’t understand what I was saying, especially when I talked her through exactly what I was going to do to her ass.
She came with a smothered cry which made my cock feel even harder. If I could find somewhere, I’d blow in about ten seconds I was that close.
“How long till we’re home?” Her breath was still ragged.
“Eighteen days.”
“I’m counting it down.”
“Me too.” Someone called my name. We were about to start shooting again.
“Talk to you later. I need to clean up.”
“Wish I was licking it up.”
She giggled. “Me too. Now go. Do your job.”
“Just need to think about the past prime ministers first. Else the take won’t be PG.”
She laughed again. The sound was magic.
Wren
FROM: [email protected]
