She did wince and a look of pain ran across her face, but I could feel little resistance at all. Ahhh! Bliss as I sank into her warm, tight, very wet... accepting love hole. Once I was about halfway in, I stopped to let her adjust and get used to it. I leant forward and we kissed, then I felt her move away and then push against me. She hesitated then did it again, and again, and so I started meeting her thrusts with small thrusts of my own. She was tight; her pussy seemed to be like a hand. Is he yours?"Ceilidh shook her head, rising from the bed to come put a hand out to me. "Nope. I think he might be a stray."In the past, I may have bristled at the word "stray." It implies an unruliness or even being unwelcome. Food service workers wear hair nets to prevent stray hairs ending up in your food and I quite approve. I, however, am not stray. I am itinerant.At that moment, I didn't even notice the word. I was too busy sniffing Ceilidh's fingers. They smelled like sex and cappuccino -. More

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