It was me who was imagining you picking me up, so easily, like you do those heavy sacks. I was picturing you setting me in the back of the wagon, wher... I could lay back and pull my dress up, baring myself for your pleasure, right there. If you would have me, I’d spread my legs wide. If you wanted, I’d pull my knees back against my breasts. You could check to see if I was wet enough by putting your tongue in me… no, don’t stop yet… to check me very thoroughly, all around, ’cause I’d want to be. Grace thought to herself this was the kind of music she’d wanted to make with Alex — loud and raucous, a bit out of tune, but free verse and very sexy. She heard herself purring with pleasure as she fucked him, long black hair whipping about, her pussy contracting around his cock and desperately trying to milk him dry. The desk underneath their bodies creaked and groaned in protest, but she was fairly certain it would hold until they finished screwing. Alex was really pounding it to her, well —. More

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