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I beckoned to him. He stood slowly, like a beast with its eyes trained on a hunter. I held my breast through my gown with a hand and shifted beneath the blankets, so the fabric dipped between my spread thighs. Still afraid to speak, wary that a sound might send him scurrying, I quirked my fingers again. Come. He did. Still slowly, moving gently, almost. The boards of my attic bedroom, in my poor husband's old, creaking house, did not sound beneath his steps. His face was still shaded when he reached for me, but that only made the first touch sweeter. My thief was who I wanted him to be, like that. As he ran a shaking hand into my hair, brought another down to join my own on my breast, he was a desert prince divesting me of my silken robe. As he settled on the edge of my bed, warmth and solidity at my side, he was an immoral brother, tempted and desperate. As he lowered his mouth to my neck, trailed his fingers down my belly, he was husband. He drew my gown up my legs and was Saint. I was disappointed when the heavy, salty, sweet eruptions began to lessen and slow. I to savor every bit of the wonderful thick load dumped into my mouth, bathing my own tongue and the big strange cock in the warm salty milkshake spewing up from deep within his balls.The cock pulled back from my nursing mouth and huge hands pushed me back onto the bad. My legs were lifted from my position on my back. Thick rough fingers plunged into my ass. I flinched and tightened protectively against the wide prodding fingers. They left and I felt his thick calloused digits return to my hole with cool wet lubrication.The stranger moved up against me, my legs slid across his muscular hairy stomach and chest until they eased to the side and down into the crook of his elbows on either side of his strong broad torso. The thick blunt cock-head nudged into the small opening of my body. I inhaled sharply at the contact and anticipation of what was to come next. He let the tension ease from my body and my.
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