Crystal Johnson

simple, white cotton. The latter were brief, but not the frilly black things he’d imagined. She moved closer and dropped the skirt over his head. He was under her skirt! His cock was hard to the point of hurting. It was almost instinct to slip his hands round behind her and up the soft backs of her thighs until he was holding her ass, his spread fingers pressing into her softness. Her hands went behind his head and pulled him against her, against those panties. She was so wet. She smelled of honey on hot toast he thought, yes, honey on hot