I wasn’t particularly enjoying it, since this sort of writing usually comes across as terribly self-conscious and artificial, and I wasn’t finding...it at all easy (which I suppose made it a good subject for an assignment – no point in making it too much of a doddle). I was trying to do a Geordie piece, based around a Saturday night in the Bigg Market area in Newcastle. Lots of scope for some interesting dialect there.But I was determined to get it done. I got undressed, so I was just wearing my. Her hand mauled my breasts, then returned to my pussy, a pair of fingers rubbing insistently along my cleft.She pushed with her fingertip, forcing the finger up into my tight pink box, wriggling and pushing it up to the knuckle as her tongue slurped in and out of my mouth."I bet you've drunk enough cum to float an ocean liner." she moaned. She pushed down on my shoulders, forcing me to my knees, then pulled my head into her crotch. A simple pull of the string around her waist and her bikini. More

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