Sure, I’ll be right over. Sex Our interactions are a volatile mix of casual friendship and raw, unspoken attraction, a dance on the edge of temptation. Peering through my window, I saw John Miller loading his suitcase into the trunk of his sleek black sedan. Anna began to ride me, her movements slow and deliberate at first, her massive tits bouncing with each motion. As we walked, the conversation flowed easily, a mix of lighthearted banter and subtle flirtation. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, all that mattered was the undeniable bond we shared, a bond that promised to bring us even closer in the days to come. The golden retriever wagged his tail eagerly, sensing the friendly interaction. Her moan vibrated against my lips, sending a shiver down my spine. “Fuck, Anna,” I murmured against her lips. One evening, as I was finishing up dinner, my phone buzzed with a text message. Now.”
I didn’t need any more encouragement. Just as I was about to turn away, I caught sight of Anna standing at their front door, watching her husband leave. Buddy’s tongue worked her clit with surprising skill, his rough licks making her moan and shudder with pleasure. When I finally pulled out, we collapsed onto the couch, her head resting on my chest.
