Suzanne Portnoy

Sitting at the breakfast table, eating my overly priced Dorset Cereal muesli and feeling horny.  The two hours of sex talk I had on MSN last night is to blame. Quite why neither of us picked up the phone and had a real conversation only struck me at 1am when I realised my fingers were going numb.  I learned to type when I was sixteen, was once tested at 100wpm but after a couple of hours of thinking and typing, my fingers wanted a rest.

Now all I want is to feel his cock slowly sliding into me again, the shuddering as he comes inside me and the exquisite pleasure of letting him drink every last drop of me as I come over and over again. A leisurely day in bed stroking each other’s bodies, getting me so wet that his cock glides effortlessly inside me and then lying side by side, slow fucking, neither of us aiming to come but just enjoying the feeling. That would be nice.  Or sitting at my desk and having him underneath me, lightly licking my clit and playing with me with his fingers. Bending me over my kitchen table, fucking me hard from behind before spurting a great load of cum in my mouth sounds divine.

Daydreaming at breakfast while everyone is asleep in the house is a rare treat.

Time to go to work…