There was no going back. Once Chelsea had his rock hard d**k out of his pants, he couldn’t have made himself stop if he wanted to. The problem was, Heath didn’t want to. Now that her writhing body was wrapped around him, his throbbing c**k deep inside of her, he didn’t ever want to stop.
She was a wild creature on top of him, grabbing the back of the chair and working her hips up and down as she leaned her head back, her lose hair billowing as she created her own wind. Perspiration dotted her forehead and just above her luscious, full mouth. That didn’t stop him from wanting to kiss her. He leaned up, stretching to reach her mouth, his tongue lashing out to lick hers before he sucked her in for a deep kiss. She tightened her muscles around him; her p***y felt so good, as if she’d never do
