Seeing or picturing the smoothcurves of her waist, or her thighs squeezing together if I'm behind her.Even if we're fucking under the covers and I can...t see the intersectionof our bodies, I still visualize the sliding and thrusting in my mind. Inmy mind, I can see her round ass, sliding forward and back on my pole. Ican see her pussy lips sucking it on the way in, and gripping it wetly onthe way out. I can practically picture the inside of her: her tunnelgetting filled as I thrust in and try to. Her husband often joked, over a breakfast of her famous flapjacks, that their house was truly an ‘international’ house of pancakes. Right now, her husband, Richard, was showering upstairs, thawing out after shoveling snow that had finally stopped falling an hour before. Twelve year-old Jen was asleep, Natalie hoped, which seemed plausible due to the quiet. If her daughter had been up, her stereo would inevitably be thumping away. The sunflower clock read 10:30 p.m., which meant that the. More

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