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..the rhythm changes and I almost cry with the disappointment. You pull back, and turn around, resting my ankles on your shoulders and spreading my legs wide as you place the head of your cock at my vaginal door. You ease forward, stretching my opening little by little then, just as I was getting used to the stretching your head slips inside and my vagina clamps like a vice around your cock. Without warning you thrust down, burying the whole of your seven inches to the hilt into me. The sudden fullness makes me gasp with delight, and you let my legs support you as you plunge forward, letting your cock stay inside me for a second as I tighten the muscles inside to clutch at your organ. You know I love this, what I call my "rocking chair" as we move back and forth together, watching each others faces, bodies hot and slick and melting into one.But now it is my turn. I stop the motion, and I realise that now the tables are turned. I want you in my mouth, the explosion coming where I. “Something changed. Wait a minute. Did you accidentally chomp down on Cameron’s ‘basa with your pointy incisors? What the heck happened?” Lauren’s examination threatened a potential fire at the beginning, the middle, and the end of Natalie’s patience. She had little tolerance for prying conversations. “I’m not sure. But I am certain of a few things. My new black lace lingerie did nothing to hoist Cameron’s slumbering lumber, my superb hand strokes were insufficient, and my perfected fellatio skills, sans teeth, did nothing for him. It doesn’t work anymore.” Truthfully, it hadn’t worked for months now. Natalie responded with a tinge of anger and she began silently counting down from ten. “So, are you going to talk to him today?” Lauren continued, as she stacked the virtual logs in the furnace. “For what, Lauren?” Natalie gave the side-eye and the neck-roll this go ‘round. Her count was at five. “To get him some help,” Lauren added while sprinkling the virtual kindling with gasoline..
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