Cum Over Aunty Pussy

It got to the point where all I wanted was his cock, and as I never knew where else it had been, I couldn't enjoy it properly. After all, if he was just going to be a stand up vibrator, I'd make do with a battery one. Or my right hand. I needed more than something to hang my twat on. So I threw him out. Gave him the fuck of his life, took his key off him, and handed him his suitcase, already packed, and told him to take his now drooping best part, stick it back in his pants, and go and find a less picky girlfriend. Or a sheep, for all I cared.Did I miss him? Of course I did, late at night, or early on a cold morning, or any time there was a thunderstorm. He had a special thing with lightening strikes. I can still come from listening to thunder.I suppose you think all I think about is sex? No, I have to work, and I like other nice things too. Anyway, I got my life back together, bought a couple of new batteries, and tried to forget the bastard. Eventually, he faded in my mind to the. The crudeness of her words belied the sweet, innocent smile. And she was right, Helen couldn’t stop herself. Slowly, she began to slide her bum forward on the chair, closer and closer to the inviting pink appendages. Until one of the feet extended and held her back, resting against her stomach. She whimpered. “I’ll allow you to rub your dirty pussy against my toes,” Lisa said softly, “but before I do that for you, you have to do something for me.” She stared intensely into the older woman’s eyes and licked her lips, almost giggling as she noticed the small tremors rippling across Helen’s neck and shoulders. “Lose your tank-top for me.” Helen was like in a trance. Her pussy was sending waves of want through her body, and the teasing had gone on for over half an hour now. Trembling fingers gripped the hem of the top and swiftly pulled it over her head. She threw it to the side and put her hands back on the armrests, and just sat there, her chest heaving, exposed, and felt Lisa’s looks.
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