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Through my eyelashes, I saw my hands, palms, fingers, and tender breasts.
She squeezed complacently under my movements, she swam under her fingers, her silky slightly sweaty skin touched me.
My palms went up to his face, to his lips.

The lips are slightly wet and so sweet.
He was breathing hot, passionate.
Only one kiss and I began to fall again and again my body began to live on its own, in each breath eternity.
Languor.
Time has ceased to exist, only he.
I opened my eyes.
I looked at his chest, as my hands walked on her, as they groped for his tender nipple, as they pressed them, and squeezed, as he groaned, as he, as he, as she, yes she.
It was she, her body, her breath, touch, it was she, she.
I felt her reaction to my touch to them.
Easy rustling breath, but what.
Everything that was inside was going out, she exhaled for a long time and intensely, it seemed the exhalation lasted not even a minute.
As soon as I squeezed them again, she again pressed her belly.
From this movement, her hips lifted, I felt them, I felt everything, all of her.
For a split second it seemed to me that I was she, I knew what I had to do, I knew what I wanted, I knew what she wanted.
I lay down next to her, as her mother laid her head on her hand and pressed herself to her.
Maternal warmth, she like a baby pressed against me, she was looking for me with her mouth, with her own hands.
I touched her belly.
I closed my eyes and immediately everything was gone, I, she, everything, nothing, only feelings.
Fingers stroking him, they ran along the navel, along the line that connects her thighs, they touched her hair.
Kisses are hotter and wetter.

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Very carefully, I walked over them, slightly pressing in, and then lifting it up.
My fingers went, I knew where to go, I felt her desire, I felt her legs bent at the knees and spread.
They opened like a flower, slowly, substituting their petals and finger to fingers.
Her hips lifted, the flower stretched to the light, to my fingers.
I touched him.
Just a little, a little touch, and the flower stopped, the hips stopped, but the knees began to diverge even wider.
They expanded

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I touched yet.
Hips throbbed and raised.
They came to me, my body itself began to sag, I began to copy it, it was happening by itself, because I am she, and she is me.
Touching her pubis, her flowers, I touched everything, my palm lay completely on her.
Fingers, looking for something, they themselves wandered through it, they wanted to break into it, and at the same time not.
She froze all over, she stopped breathing, stopped kissing, stopped moving, her body tensed.
Fingers stroking her bud, I felt their juice, their thrill and thirst.
He fell into her.
I did not make any effort, he went into it.
Hips twitched and rushed forward.
How long can a woman feel inside a man without movement? She sagged.
As the flower strives for the light, so it strove for it.
He was in her, he went into her and stood there, everything stopped, everything.
Her legs began to tremble from the strain, then her legs, then her stomach, shoulders, and after the thigh.
From this movement inside her everything moved.
The slightest movement and it exploded.
Moan and cramps merged together.
She inhaled sharply and sobbed.
She cried incessantly.
The cry was becoming more plaintive and quieter, tears running down my face.
She pressed her whole body, clasped me and clung to my lips.
Cry and kiss.
She wanted to hide her face on my chest, I pressed her more and more strongly.
The more I pressed her the stronger I became her cry, he then grew like a shower noise, then subsided like a weak stream.
She was cleared.
Her face was all wet, her lips and eyes were swollen.
She looked somewhere in the void, the tears veiled them, but because of this they did not become sad and detached, they shone from the inside.
The next day, Olga woke up in a wonderful mood, however, during the day, it began to slowly but surely deteriorate under the influence of the agony of conscience that had woken up and steadily rising from the far outskirts. Skype cam sex chat.

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