The wet patch

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Creampie

The wet patchI think I told you last Christmas that I’ve always measured the success of a sex session by the size of the wet patch on the bed sheets afterwards. And it was this little obsession of mine that has landed me in a lot of trouble this last year.I’d longed to get inside the knickers of my step-sister, especially after I’d found that especially large wet patch in her bed after she’d had sex with her boyfriend: a wet patch so large that it could only have been made from her having ejaculated or urinated, or perhaps both in her excitement at being fucked by him. I know I used to sometimes hear her begging to be allowed to pee. “Oh God! I want to pee, I want to pee, I want to pee”, I used to hear her saying, but he’d always insist on continuing to fuck her. And I’d always fantasised about seeing her wet the bed as he continued to push into her.Anyway, I wanted her and I was eaten almanbahis yeni giriş up by jealousy, and I guess it showed. When I thought there was a chance for me, I’d be round Sally all day long: waiting for the chance to get into her pants. Perhaps I used to her arouse her by my constant attention, for then she’d telephone her boyfriend, and he’d give her a good fucking upstairs on the single bed. I’d be as mad as hell. I’d masturbate while looking longingly at the bed sheet stains after they’d finished and gone out somewhere.I’m pretty sure now that she knew exactly what she was doing: driving me crazy with her moans as he gave it to her. I suspect now she’d already decided that she was going to give it to me, but she intended to get me really hungry before she’d let me anywhere near her. She’d sit with her legs crossed watching the tv, so as to let me see almanbahis giriş her upper legs, or she’d put her newly washed undies over my radiator to dry. Or sometimes let me see up her skirt as she went up the stairs.Anyway, it was after her boyfriend had gone back early to college that I finally had my chance. Or, to be brutally honest, I guess she let me know that I could have her. I remember well that it was Janaury 8th – Mum and Dad were out, and Bethany had gone back to her Mum’s house – and obviously Sally had decided that I had waited long enough. Perhaps she just felt sorry for me.She came into my room in her pyjamas, apologizing that she’d left some of her “bits and pieces” over my radiator. And then she asked whether I would like to give her a hand to “…get her things down” as she was packing up to be ready to go back to her college. And as soon as I almanbahis güvenilirmi realised that her “things” didn’t mean her books, laptop or CD player, my cock went hard before I’d even got to her room.In fact, she only had one thing to take down, and that was her pyjama bottoms. She was wearing no knickers underneath, and the sudden glimpse of her unfamiliar pussy made my cock jerk with excitement. “Are you happy now?” was all that I remember her saying as I rubbed my face over the tops of her legs and then slowly between her legs and over the lips of her pussy. My cheeks, nose and eyelids becoming wet with her juices. Oh! How I wish I had stayed there a bit longer. Instead, I was inside her quickly. I’d always told myself that I’d linger over her pussy for hours and hours, savouring her before entering….almost worshipping that opening I’d craved for, but my eagerness to get inside was just too much for me that morning. Perhaps she was disappointed with my performance, there being just the smallest of wet spots on the sheets, and I got a sense as my sperm shot into her that something bad was going to happen as a result – and happen it did!TO BE CONTINUED.

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