My husband and I dated for almost seven years before we got married, including our college years when we lived three hundred miles apart. Whenever we could get together during this time, we had many fabulous make-out sessions sitting on the sofa – any sofa. Oh, how we always wished we didn’t have to stop!
After we married, we fucked like rabbits every chance we could. But it was almost always in the bedroom. (Well, there was that one time in the car, but that is a separate story.)
So one day, when I was wearing a sexy tank top and a very short skirt (and nothing else), my husband pulled me onto the sofa and we pretended we were teenagers again. This time there were no holds barred!
We started with some lovely kissing, his lips and tongue caressing and tangling with mine. When his hand slid up to stroke my boob through my tank, I certainly didn’t object. Soon his hands found their way under my top and, a while later, sneaked under my skirt.
I unzipped his shorts and soon had his hard cock in my hand. It felt amazing to stroke it’s length while he explored my nether region. It grew got hotter and hotter against my palm as he finger-fucked me.
After I came several times, I slipped down onto my knees and sucked his cock. I did my best to give him the blowjob he deserved.
Then, still wearing my skirt and top, I straddled him and impaled my cunt on his shaft. We rocked and thrust as his cock slid back and forth inside me, with all the panting and groaning and whispered words of encouragement of a couple in heat. Soon we both came together.
As we relaxed in each other’s arms, we remarked that being teenagers was never like this!
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