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.. your fingers trail down my belly and find my wetness...your fingers begin to work their magic...each of us moaning softly as we bring each other to explosive heights our bodies wrapped tightly together...Hearts pounding in time...My tongue traces the softness of your neck...Stopping only so I can nibble... Your skin is so sweet...your fingers driving me crazy as they move lightly over my clit...I moan against your neck moving...Together in magical rhythm... soft moans from each other intensifies the feelings... moving you so you're above me...So I can devour your sweetness again and again. Pulling you down so the tip of my tongue traces along your glistening lips...feeling you tremble as my tongue licks gently back and forth. Savoring the sweet taste of you...Feeling you tremble against my tongue as it parts your lips searching for the source of your pleasure... finding it... feeling you throb against my mouth... my tongue caressing it... teasing the tip...Hearing you moan... your. "Move," she commands, even as she's moving him, grinning crookedly as he stumbles backwards, enabling her to scoop up her luggage and scoot past him.The defeated man actually appears to have deflated, shrinking back within himself like a reprimanded child. For perhaps the thirteenth time since the argument started, he ones a hand through his hair as he finds himself overwhelmed by yet another bout of speechlessness. He manages to stutter out a few syllables with obvious effort, "B--But, but Mad," he sighs forcefully, then continues, "How the h---, I mean, seriously, how was I supposed to know who he was?" Quickly returning to that haven of defensiveness, he takes a step after the woman who has only stopped because she's reached the door and set down her bags, once more. "He's called everyday for the past week and each time, you've run off somewhere with the telephone. Can you blame me for being suspicious?" Yet again, a step is taken, though he remains ready to dodge any incoming.
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“Enough, you still have to do part two, and if you carry on like that we’ll all cum before we’ve finished.” Phillip reminded us in a much huskier voice than I had ever heard on him before. I wasn’t so sure I was enjoying this anymore: this continual stopping and starting when I was so wound up was torture. That was until he gave us part two of our dare. Then I realised that until that moment I hadn’t truly understood the proper meaning of being torturously turned on, so electrified that I felt as if I could literally snap. He was standing behind Miranda, gripping her so tightly to him that there were white marks at her waist and her breast around his hands. She was eerily still, completely focussed on me. “Insert the leftover mango into her vagina.” Phillip instructed. Cole was eager, thinking he knew what would come next. “Now step away,” Phillip continued, making direct eye contact with Cole that was almost pleading and contrasted starkly with his dominant tone. So he wasn’t so.

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