Her body reacted exactly as it should, and we fell to a wonderfully frantic rhythm, forcing ourselves together and apart, sweat lubricating our bodies, sharply broken plant material preventing any sort of comfort.We pumped. Up and down. In and out. We didn't speak, unless moans qualify. I'd looked at her for weeks, and we'd only ever done this in my mind. In reality, her breasts were bigger, her thatch was darker, her gloriously desperate cunt was tighter. In reality neither of us were going to last nearly as long as we had when only my mind was fucking her.Inevitably, we both became even more excited. Our levels of arousal rose beyond reason. The movement, the friction, the heat and the surprisingly smooth texture of her pale skin were too much.I felt her legs tense, and the semen rise in my cock. I heard the gasp escape her mouth, and loved the bite of her fingernails on my ass. I slowed, desperate suddenly to delay the inevitable finish if I could. I was decidedly too late, and so. I stepped inside themand began to pull them up over my silky smooth legs. It felt sostrange as the soft cool fabric pulled tightly up against my smooth,formless crotch. I pulled the sides up over my hips . . . as I did sothe fabric in the back worked its way between the cheeks of myass. I turned and looked at my self in the mirror . . . slowlystudying the sight before me.I next reached for her bra and began to put it on. It didn't takelong before I realized that there was no way that it was going to fit. . . I was simply too big. I gave up and tossed it on the bed."Screw it, I'll have to go braless," I muttered as I headed for thecloset.There I rummaged through her things until I found something thatstruck a nerve. I finally settled on the outfit that my wife liked towhere when she wanted to turn me on. It was a tight white mini-dress with spaghetti straps that held up a plunging v-neck. I putmy hands through the top, raised my arms and began to pull theslick (almost.
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