As I watched her, there seemed to be a certain … well … poetry to her movement. Corny, right? The predictable metaphor embarrasses me a little, b...t it is nonetheless true. What I mean is that she moved with a certain amount of grace, an economy of movement. She moved from standing, to kneeling, to turning, like a poem moving gracefully from one line to the next. I looked on, as one would read on, to see where the poem was going. I warned you that it was a little bit corny, but you weren’t. The decrease in speed gave a decrease in suction as well and I was able to focus at least a little more clearly. My dick mirrored the lowering of pressure, although not much, as it was still inflated to an immense size. I tried to reposition myself, rise up in the seat, but was unable to pull my legs back enough to get my feet from over the dashboard. In a last ditch effort, I dropped my seat back, but before I could shift my body, we reached the I-40 exit.Kara floored the accelerator onto the. More

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