" She taunted."And you love it." I replied, pumping up at her forcefully."Fuck yeah." She murmured, growing quieter.She was shaking again, her fingers...active on her pussy. I too was growing closer to orgasm, and it was hard to concentrate on her sharp, yet arousing words. I thrust harder, trying to drive myself deeper into her body.I suddenly remembered that I had asked her about birth control, but I couldn't remember what she had said. In fact, I couldn't remember if she had said anything. Oh, no. Arran polo-neck sweater, quite loose, cords (baggy) flat shoes ... actual deck-shoes. Not a trace of make-up. Not that it bothered me, I hate it when I get makeup on my shirts. Or my face. Or my hands. Anyway. She invited me into the living-room, sat me down and offered me a drink.“Thanks! Could I have some of your Bushmills, please – just a little water?”When she came back, some time later, with my drink, she was carrying a mug of cocoa. I don’t know about you, but I associate cocoa. More

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