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He moved to his knees and motioned for me to bend over the seat of the couch. Nervous, my excitement heightened when I felt his big hands caress and squeeze my ass cheeks. I held my breath when I felt a big, lubed finger rub against my opening. I gasped when it slid inside. His finger felt painful, but strangely less so the deeper he pushed it into me. Soon I felt another finger enter me with a twisting motion. He moved them slowly in and out of my hole and spreading his fingers, slowly began to open me up, gaping my hole. I arched my back for him as he works my asshole open even wider. Pulling his fingers from inside me, I felt empty, gaped and wide. The. I felt his hand on my hip. Holding me at the waist, I then felt his huge, lubed cocks head pressing against the edges of my asshole then slide inside me. I gasped, it took my breath away. Stretching me even wider, he slowly moved himself in and out of me, going deeper each time.He moaned and grunted, it was so erotic and sensual. I. She couldn't see any sign of habitation ahead of her either. She sighed, might as well keep going east. There might be a house just around the next corner.Half an hour later, she decided that life definitely sucked out loud. The weather had closed in. It was distinctly colder with a nasty biting wind and she'd left her nice warm leather jacket far behind in the car. Her feet were beginning to ache like a bastard. Sensible shoes or not, she wasn't used to hiking down roads.At least it looked like there was a village ahead. She could see houses and what passed for a business district, with a couple of shopfronts and some tables and chairs set out on the footpath, and, oh joy of joys, a garage!Right at that moment it began to rain. She was still some way from the nearest shop.A small stone church stood on the left, set back from the road and with a small neat graveyard at the side. The door was open.She ran up the path and into the church as the rain pelted down, big cold heavy drops..
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No one wears petticoats anymore, so it was reasonable to assume the skirt was lined. Jon stood too and then realised how tall she was, probably two or three inches over him and she had flat shoes on. Oh my gawd, he thought to himself, a six foot Amazonian Barbie doll. His fantasies rolled before his eyes in less time than it takes to blink. He must have blinked or shown somehow, what was crossing his mind because she grabbed his hand and uttered the words of his dreams… “I’m horny, let’s get out of here.” Briefly, Jon wondered if he had died and gone to hedonistic heaven.In something of a daze, he allowed her to drag him and the dog across the scorched grass towards Park Lane and her car, one of those enormous four-wheel driven Mitsubishi’s whose name completely escaped him, but had the collective name of Chelsea tractors.She lived on the first floor of a Georgian house that had been converted to apartments in Loundes Square just behind Harvey Nicholls. Ordinarily, Jon would have.

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