Every time she leaned forward, the gaping top offered tempting glimpses of her breasts, distracting me from our conversation. I was easily unfocused that evening, spending God knew how many minutes in her kitchen trying to choose a couple of drinks from the fridge but actually reliving every detail of the sex we’d had. Sex! In her bed. Inside her. Naked skin. Soft moans. Anna’s thrusting body. Her breasts filling my mouth and my hands. My cock surrounded by her flesh. It was no wonder it took me a while to pick out a couple of sodas, close the fridge door, and pour glasses of diet cola. After we finished dinner and were clearing the table, I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I caught hold of the tie of Anna’s robe and tugged her toward me. She dropped the plate she was holding on the table with a clatter and came into my arms, her hands snaking around the back of my neck and pulling my face down for a kiss. She acted as eager as I felt. Good to know I hadn’t been the only one sitting politely through dinner when what I wanted to do was sweep the table clear and fuck right on top of it.
