The man kissing me reaches down and grasps the sides of my skirt and lifts it up above my waist. Im exposed through the fishnet without panties! I let out a little squeal and he plunges his tongue into my mouth to stifle my hapless cry. I feel the looseness around my waist as the zipper to my skirt is undone and the garment is yanked from me. Immediately I feel large warm fingers press in between my legs and rub side to side over my already warm wet lips. Mmmmm yeah, Baby, you wanted this ride &hellip, for sure! Hes right. My clit is on fire and Im already starting to gasp air. The finger between my legs drives into my welcoming pussy and curls under, massaging the front walls. I cant help it. My body lurches and I yank myself away from the lips kissing me to gasp for air. I can feel my inner thighs start to tense as the finger pumps in and out of me with mind blowing fury. I continue to gasp little breaths but now with squeals on top of each and my pussy quivers and tightens with. The man in the painting has his hand running through her hair, and had his face turned against her throat. There wasn’t anything truly racy about the picture. They were clothed in Victorian style clothing and there wasn’t anything pornographic about it. It was actually a sweet and tender moment. Except her body had throbbed and a damp heat pooled between her thighs remembering her dream just that morning. It seemed fateful that a post card that held such a simple image had an erotic significance for her. She blushed as she remembered her dream had brought her awake, her body throbbing in orgasm. His erection had filled her to bursting, and he had her on her knees in front of him as he slammed into her from behind. With his hand fisting in her hair, adding that sweet pain as he arched her body against his chest and used his other hand to flick her clit in time with his thrusting. Just as she was reaching that pulsing release he had bent his head to bite her neck. She had cum so hard.
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