Bent over the kitchen counter, skirt ruched around my hips you peel my satin knickers from my sopping cunt.
“I need to take your temperature. The probe will slip into your meat and let me know if you are ready.”
You spread my legs; teasing my clit with the head of your leaking cock. You find my entrance and nestle yourself there but you do not enter yet.
You just wait and every time I try to push back, to take you into my hungry pussy you slap my butt till it’s rosy and tears glisten my cheeks.
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