You casually stroke my breast and graze my nipple — I hear your deep chuckle as my body arches into your hand. I read aloud a passage of the trashy paperback that I’m reading — and your breath catches on a few of the passages. Finally, I can’t take it anymore and I don’t care if a neighbor is watching or not. I climb on top of you, slide your hard cock into my soaking wet pussy, and begin riding you. My clit is fully engorged, my breasts are swollen, and my nipples get even harder under your watchful eyes. Not a word is said. Your hands are gripped behind your head as you arch your hips into mine. My fingers and nails trace your sides, across your nipples, and along your waist. I reach behind myself and start to massage your balls. I look straight into your eyes as I lower my face to yours. Just before our mouths touch, I whisper ‘now — please’. Our tongues duplicate the pace as our bodies — and with just a few more slides you empty into me. The chef salad for lunch in the fridge. Pope decided to spend most of the day in the warehouse trying to make me laugh; I had no clue what that was about.I grabbed something to eat from McDonald’s on the way home; the stuff was way too greasy, but it was super cheap, and I was still pretty broke. After getting home, I grabbed a shower and got changed. Impressing Keisha wasn’t really that important, so it was just jeans, t-shirt and sneakers.Walking out through the kitchen was when Mom ambushed me.“So where are you going?”“I’m going out. I told you about this the other night.”“Well, where are you going?”“Out, not really sure where. I might go see a movie.”“You need to tell me where you are going.”“I told you, I’m not sure. Have a good evening, I’ll be home before midnight most likely.”I headed out. It was about a 25-minute drive over to Keisha’s house which was in a nice middle class in a cul de sac. Walking up, I rang the doorbell, and it was only a short time till the door opened.Keisha was standing there in a short satin.
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