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Vega

My keys stabbed into my back with every pump. The car was cramped, fogged, echoing moans and breath. Our clothes were still half on, her skirt was hiked and my jeans low, just enough to reach each other. My right hand was on her breast, her nipple rest between my middle and ring finger. They got hard when I would tell her how tight and satisfying she was, or when I spanked her through her skirt. I grabbed her ass with both hands, one of my fingers landed on the outside of her asshole. She loved the tease, and would bring her hips back on her downstroke to encourage me to move closer. I gave her another spank before reclining my seat and pulled her towards me. She smelled like patchouli incense, her olive skin was rippled with goosebumps. I could hit her sweetest spots like this, fast. I had her long ebony hair gripped and pulled so her neck bent and she faced upwards, her mouth blissfully hanging open. The most beautiful sounds came from the back of her throat, and I felt her torso pressing into mine like it always does before she comes. My biggest problem in bed is that the sound and feeling of her oncoming orgasm is what sets me off, and I have to fight to reach my own apex during of after hers. I grabbed her shoulder with the hand that was not wrapped in her hair, gripped, and pulled her body down, as deep as I could, before my body became it’s sentient self and forced my head back. My shoulders flex, my hands pulled her hair harder and gripped her body. Her nails dug into my neck and shoulders, and the chirps she let escape into my ear were even more satiating than my own pulsing muscles. I didn’t even notice the officers lights in the window.

knock knock

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