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Steve’s door was always open, literally. As a friend of my ex-boyfriend, Steve and I had an odd friendship. More like brother and sister. We joke around. He smokes weed. I play his video games. He is a couple of years older than me. I’m in the business field, and he … well I’m not sure what he does at the moment. Although our lives are completely opposite, our differences work as a great sounding-board for each other as we offer an alternative perspective for our worlds. This is why our quirky friendship has lasted all these years. But that day I had had a particularly stressful day at work. I walked into Steve’s house just as he was about to light up. No knocking. He looked up, match halfway to the cigarette between his lips. His chair was positioned by the door. Odd place for a seat, but it was his favourite. I guess so the smoke smell wasn’t in the house too much. “What the fuck do you want, çankaya escort kid?!” he said, barely looking up. That was always the way he addressed me. Almost like I was bothering him, but nevertheless welcome like family. I closed the half a metre of distance between me and him. I was feeling bold that day. I licked my thumb and index finger and snuffed out the match that was burning. I took his free hand and placed it down my dress pants, right between my thighs, under my panties, where I was already soaked. The unlit cigarette slowly fell from between his lips as his mouth dropped open at my boldness. His fingers had already found their way between my slit and moving slowly. His eyes travelled slowly up my body. First he was staring at his hands down my pants, then higher to my perky breasts hidden behind my black blouse, then up to my keçiören escort lush, full lips, then finally our eyes met. He asked me slowly, “Are you sure, Jessie?” I nodded my head in agreement and said, “I’ve been thinking about you for years and I can’t resist any longer.” He needs no other invitation than that. Leaving his hand between my legs, he used his free hand to pull me closer by the waist. While standing in front of him, we worked together to loosen the button and zipper of my pants. They pooled at my feet where they landed. I kicked them to the side. Steve stared at his hand still in my panties, his fingers doing a fine job of preparing me for his package. His mouth seemed to be drooling. I closed our connection by slowly lowering myself to straddle him on his favourite chair. His jeans were rough on the underside of my smooth etimesgut escort thighs, but it’s a minor discomfort. I unbuttoned his jeans and slid down the zipper. He’s wearing black, Tommy boxers and I saw the tent created by his arousal. I’ve wanted this for years: since high school, since my breakup, hell, since the first day my ex introduced us. Steve is just so thick and dreamy; athletic yet a bad-boy. Mothers don’t want him for a son-in-law, but all the girls want to be with him. While my brain was still functioning, I peeled down his boxers to release his beautiful dick. No, it’s not beautiful; it’s fucking juicy! There could not be a finer piece of workmanship out there. It’s about seven inches of cut man-meat, three inches around. Perfect for me and my tight pussy. I rested his dick and balls on the fabric of his boxers. They were on full display and put on a fabulous show. His dick seemed to keep jumping in anticipation. His balls were full, ready to burst at any minute. Then the wild man in Steve came out … the man I’d been waiting for. While I’m straddling him, he used his free hand to rip open the buttons of my blouse to expose my purple lace bra. He reached behind me to unhook my bra and slipped it off my shoulders.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
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