His hands were on my breasts, squeezing gently; the massage was just what I needed to quench the dull ache in my boobs. A nipple was caught between his fingers. His member was in my hands, the musky scent teasing me, daring me to taste him. “God, honey. Don’t stop touching me.” I had never been with such an eager lover before, and his naughty demands made the muscles in my womanhood contract pleasurably. Bending over him, I gave the glossy tip a lick, and he groaned. “Oh, yeah, Marissa.” His head fell to the sand. “More, honey. Do me more.” I sucked him while, his groans drifted into the jungle, the perfect accompaniment for the wild lust of nature. His hands drifted to my head, mussing my hair. With each pull, my anatomy flooded with sensation, the pressure began to build, driving me nearly to distraction. I gagged on the length, the tip hitting the back of my throat. “Baby…oh, God…” And then, I’d had enough. “Oh, I can’t stand this!” I boldly straddled him, lowering onto the object that I craved so desperately.
What do You think about Island Curves (A BBW Romance)?
