It might be some little twist; a new lick that lingered for the first time, or a nibble in uncharted territory. Their respective lusts became synchronized to the point that they became sex. They slipped into a state of fuck. His mouth became her fuck. Ultimately, they were consumed by fuck, as they scaled the heights of Fuck Mountain.The squeak of the porch swing fell on deaf ears, as he spread his arms onto the back of the swing and eased his head back. He was too deeply entranced by his lusty reverie to acknowledge anything in the present. The subtle pivoting motion of the swing transported him - reminded him of the slow swivel of her hips, as she moved under him, reaching for the lips that had just released the first, hot, teasing breath. Her scent intoxicated him. Every aspect of devouring her was worthy of remembering. He drew a deep breath in through his nose, lips pursed tightly together. Cool October air filled his lungs. His brain enhanced reality, adding a hint of recall,. She thrust her hips and thighs up even higher off the bed, pushing closer into his face. Then, suddenly, she was very still, and he felt the first taste of her sweet nectar on the tip of his tongue. In response, Brad sucked her hot, throbbing love button all the way up past his lips, gently but firmly clenching his teeth over it. Now she began bucking rapidly and violently up and down, and it was all Brad could do to hold onto her ass and her pussy as Jane shook, trembled, quaked, writhed, and flooded his mouth and throat with a non-stop torrent of the sweetest juice known to humanity. He couldn’t get enough of her natural flavor on his hungry taste buds. Fortunately, Jane gave him a plentiful supply, accompanied by a wonderfully-melodic soprano chorus of moans and screams. He continued licking, she continued coming, and she just kept mumbling over and over, ‘Oh, Brad! You’ve got her honey! You’ve got her! Oh, Brad!’ When Jane finally stopped shaking, moaning, calling out Brad’s.
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