She quickly ducked from view. I presumed she would go home so I turned off the light in case any unwanted neighbour saw me. I remained in my room, in the darkness, stroking my throbbing cock. I turned my gaze towards the hedge that she was peering around about ten seconds before. Suddenly, Sinead just walked past again with her bike, nice and slow and lingering. She was staring at the window and going the wrong direction. She would need to turn around again and go past to get home. I turned the light back on and I stood right in the middle of the room facing the window, fondling my aching cock and waited. She walked slowly into view again and I looked directly at her, intensifying the rhythm of my strokes. She stopped walking. She stood there, her eyes fixed on me. Our eyes fixed on each other. I was never so turned on. There was trepidation but mainly arousal and the need to be be seen cumming. She watched as I stroked faster and harder and she didn’t move a muscle. She was. Drops of perspiration ran down his scalp and temples as he strained hard to keep up this momentum up. Pressing her hands against his chest, she prised herself away from him. She rolled over onto all fours pushing her bottom into the air. He lingered to take in the plumpness of her labia framed beautifully by her luscious peach-shaped arse and the suspender straps. On his shins, he held her hips for purchase and thrust powerfully into her. “Harder.” Hinged on her knees and shoulders, she met each powerful thrust by pushing firmly against him. Fighting to hold her hips with his perspiration soaked hands, he clasped at the elastic of the suspender belt. With his heart pounding and his throat dry, he dug into his reserves of endurance to fulfil her craven needs. Each moan from her grew stronger with every formidable lunge of his cock into her sopping cunt. The sounds of their bodies colliding together bounced off the walls as he relentlessly fucked her with all his strength. Crouching.
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