The erotic summer history [2] | Erotic sex stories

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Arthur standing there on the bank. Naked as God created him. Width shoulders, brown skin, narrow hips and he held his upright masculinity unabashedly. “Nice idea,” he said, slid into the water, appeared, appeared and came to me. He wiped the water out of his hair, which was slightly lured in dry condition and took me in my arms. He kissed me without any further words, held me and I caught it Legs around his waist, felt his hard masculinity on my butt.

Arthur loosened his grip, I slid down a little and now the opening that I had just explored lured him. He led his hand on it and I held my breath. Arthur looked at me as if he wanted to absorb every individual emotion. So deep, so dark, his eyes and his eyes were almost afraid. One arm around my hips, holding me and leading;the other hand help and also leading.

I felt all of this in the cold water, and when I looked down at myself, I noticed that the crests were hard on my breasts. Arthur also saw it, leaned down and took the hard point between his lips, bumped with his Tongue on it and let me sigh. Still while he was playing with me, he pushed into me. Slowly he stretched me, I held my breath. Why? I couldn’t say it.

It was this feeling that went out of my breasts and flooded the whole body? It was the short stitch between my legs or this stretching that followed shortly afterwards. This can be filled out by him. He sighed on my breasts and now sucked it hard. I don’t know how, but he was skillful. Arthur moved in me and at the same time he held me, stroked me, pinched me. He led me, and even if I would have loved to watch every single one of these movements, my head fell on the neck and I enjoyed it that he took me here in the lake.

What I learned earlier as a new, unknown person fulfilled me again and I let my senses run wild. Gave my feelings a voice and Arthur laughed quietly without mine nipple out of his mouth. His hot breath slid over my cold skin, came in the rhythm of his movements in me. The water splashed around us and was the accompanying music for our moaning together. We were one and our souls were one.

Arthur dropped back and pulled me. We only let ourselves be driven a few meters, right up to the bank. When we had solid ground under our feet again, he turned in his arms with me and I was below him. His bumps in me became more violent, stronger and pressing. Again his view of me hung on me, every single area of my body from me in his inner one.

I felt the silt below me, I held on to Arthur as I pressed him closer to my thighs. He pushed deeper, ever deeper and more violent. He threw his head back and then I felt how he came in me. The warm ray of his juices that poured into me let me cheer me. Yes, I ducked out with joy and desire to follow him in the next moment, in his decaying movements with my redemption, which made him groan almost desperately.

Arthur sank over me, protected me against the cold of the water and I looked up into the top of the trees. The fog had finally warped and I could look up to the clouds and felt even more freely when I did it with myself in my game. It shouldn’t stop. We should stay that way forever, noticeable the other. But after a few minutes he rose, smiled and pulled me with him.

“I have to go to the field,” he said and I said regret to hear in his voice. Hand in hand we ran into the water, washed each other, kissed again, then he left me. “You shouldn’t see us together,” he said quietly. I saw him swimming in the lake. Looked on his strong back and on the narrow hips that were crowned by a crunchy rear. I dived one last time, pushed myself away from the ground of the floor, and when I showed up, I wished to see him again.

But he had already disappeared behind the bushes. I swam back to the bank with strong trains. While I was roaming my shirt, I felt that my body longed for him. I scurried back to the house, prayed that nobody looked at me what had happened down there at the lake in the last hour. But to my luck, it was still too early to hear life in the house.

On the tips of the toe I crept up under the roof where the stuffy air of the night awaited me. I cried out to the window and looked over the fields. Now, I thought, I knew what his looks meant and that I was no longer the little girl from the country anymore.

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