Then we tightly hugged each other and started eating the mouths of each other for some time, as I felt his cock tightening against my belly. Technically, he was sucking my mouth dry. I guess he was greedy of whatever liquid came outta me during sex.After a while, I broke the kiss and told his troubles self,“Qamaar, I want you to be gentle with me from now onwards. Not very gentle but just as much as you were when I pretended to be asleep. Got it?”“It is your call, furry. I do what you say”Then he placed his cock on my pussy and asked me,“May I? ” to which I nodded ‘yes’ and he started fucking me. Even this time, his hands were on my boobs and squeezing them but they were not painful like the last time. I had my eyes closed due to the sensation. But I forcibly kept my eyes open for him because I thought that constant eye contact will help. We were smiling at each other.But this was not something I asked him. Our deal was that I narrate a part of my story and he fucks me in return for. Tom’s stomach revolted and bile seared the back of his throat. With a valiant effort he swallowed and lay perfectly still, praying to a nameless god that his stomach would stop heaving. Flashes came quicker now… Paris, her face covered in BBQ sauce as she worked her way through a pile of chicken wings. The both of them laughing uncontrollably when she’d dropped a wing and it landed in the crevice of her breasts. Jesus her breasts! When the Hell had those appeared? If he was a betting man, and he was, he’d say the perfect handful. Tom snorted as his cock twitched. Nothing, not even a raging, mother of all hangovers could wipe the image of Paris giggling; sticky fingertips smearing sauce over pale flesh as she fished out the offending chicken wing, her face flushed with laughter as she’d hurriedly used her fingers to swipe clean the sauce left behind. Shots…of something clear and strong, when Jason - the fucking wanker, arrived. Who’d invited that arsehole anyway? Tom thankfully let.
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