Standing behind me, you hold me against your chest, kissing my neck. One hand slides up to cup my breast, kneading the tip. I can’t stop my back from arching, pressing me harder against your cock, my breath coming shorter. I want so bad to have you inside me.

My hand reaches behind me, dragging my nails along the denim before turning my fingers to stroke the hard length. I love touching you.

Without a word, your free hand slides under the edge of my panties, fingers pressing into the hot, wet core waiting for you.

A silent O.