Cupping your tits, you start to rock, feeling my frustration and lust, because you still won't give me leave, no matter how much you want it too."Plea...e...." That one word is another whisper, softer than the candle beginning to gutter and fade in our room.You don't answer, but start to grind your hips in a frenzy, savoring every thrust, the feel of my dick buried inside you, and revel in it. Before you know it, you say one word back. "Yesssss."My hips thrust up into the air, lifting you. Mouth feasting. Hungry. Demanding. Insistent.Beth slips a hand between Daisy's thighs, a companion to my own trapped hand; furious and attentive as it flutters about my aching clit. Dipping repeatedly into the wetness of my sex, running northbound, coating, teasing, circling, flicking, my back arched, hips raised, thighs wide, drenched in expectation, need and want.Daisy is humping. Hips grinding atop the fingers. Head thrown back. Eyes sightlessly staring at nothingness. Her watermelon bust. More

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