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I opened my eyes, stretched, and looked at my phone. I’d only dozed off in my compartment for half an hour or so, but even during that short time, the landscape had changed completely. I’d closed my eyes on endless rows of ramshackle, corrugated-iron-roofed, single-story shanties on the outskirts of Johannesburg, and opened them to equally wide vistas of flat uncultivated scrubland. There were now no signs of human habitation; just short, twisted trees dotting the landscape, along with random mounds of yellowish soil that I decided must be anthills. The train was clearly in no hurry, rumbling along steadily through the veldt, and I decided it was time to leave my compartment and explore the rest of the train.

I walked through two more carriages of sleeping-compartments, then found myself in a comfortable-looking lounge furnished with sofas, tables and a bar. It was already quite busy, with groups of travellers sipping cups of hot drinks and chatting politely. I’d already worked out that the routine on the train revolved mostly around eating and drinking, presumably to help the passengers pass the time on the leisurely thirty-hour journey from Jo’burg to Cape Town. I ordered a rooibos tea and established, while waiting for it to arrive, that the dining cars and kitchen were in the next few carriages, with more sleeping accommodation beyond that.

There were no empty blocks of sofas in the lounge, but I excused myself and sat down on the end of one that was already occupied by a woman who I estimated to be in her mid-thirties, and a youth of around twenty who was engrossed in some sort of electronic game on his tablet.

As I sipped my tea, I passed the time trying to work out their relationship. The obvious assumption was mother and son, but she looked a bit young for that, or maybe he looked too old. Being congenitally inquisitive, I’d already decided if I was going to spend the next thirty hours on this train, I might as well get to know a few of my fellow passengers, and these two seemed as good a place to start as any.

“Excuse me, but can you remind me what time they serve lunch?” I asked (a feeble opener, but better than nothing).

“Officially, at 12:30,” she answered with a friendly smile, “but it’s a good idea to get to the dining car a bit early. For Africa, they’re surprisingly keen on good time-keeping, for meals at least. The train itself is another matter. It’s never once arrived less than two hours late all the times I’ve used it.”

“It’s my first time,” I admitted. “I was going to fly down to Cape Town, but my friend told me I just had to take the Premier Classe. She lives there, and she says the train’s a great way to see some of the country in comfort.”

“That’s true. If all you do is fly from one airport to another, you don’t see much of the real South Africa,” she agreed. “From the train, though, you can see just how empty most of it is – all this land, mostly unused.”

She paused, then went on. “So, is this your first visit to South Africa? You said you had a friend in Cape Town, is that right?”

So I explained how it all came about. How I’d made friends with Janet at university in London, though she was a year ahead of me, and we’d kept in touch after she left and come back to South Africa. I missed out the bit about how we’d shared a brief but intense sexual relationship while I was in my second year and she was in her third, both of us going through a lesbian phrase at more or less the same time. The sex was great, but it quickly became clear to each of us that we were never going to give up men completely, so it seemed best to end the relationship by mutual consent before it all got messy.

Anyway, I’d always promised to go and visit her, but it never seemed to happen. We both had busy jobs now, and we just couldn’t find a time that worked for both of us. Then, out of the blue, a work-related conference in Johannesburg came up, and my boss suggested I should go. Normally, he’d get to do most of the good jollies, but he’d just got back from one in Sydney, and couldn’t really spare the time for another. But I’d had a good year, and this was an easy way for the company to say thank you.

I jumped at the chance, especially as they agreed that I could take some holiday afterwards to visit Janet in Cape Town. As I’ve mentioned, she told me I had to take the Premier Classe train service from Johannesburg to Cape Town, saying it was one of those South Africa things that visitors really should “do”, “like going up Table Mountain and seeing a giraffe”, as she put it. I looked it up on the internet, and it did look wonderful: a bit like the Orient Express (but cheaper, and hopefully without any murders). I booked, and here I was.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” said my new friend. “I don’t go down to Cape Town much these days, but I like to do it this way, taking my time and getting some rest. And Hansie doesn’t really mind, as long as he’s got his computer games, do you, bokkie?”

Hansie looked up and grinned. “Of course not, ma,” he replied. He looked at me.

“She hates flying,” he confided, “but this is too far to drive, and pa’s using the car anyway.”

I then found out more about them. Her name was Maria, and the boy, Hansie, was her step-son. His biological mother had died in a car accident when he was ten, and his father, Pieter, had remarried a few years later. She was thirty-four, and Hansie was now eighteen. Pieter worked for one of the big mining corporations based in Jo’burg, although he spent much of his time travelling the world advising other companies. Hansie went to school locally but had just applied for a place at Stellenbosch University, not far from Cape Town. That was why they were going there now, to see the university and visit some old family friends. As Hansie had explained, Maria hated flying, which was why they were taking the train.

“Pieter thinks I’m silly,” she smiled, “but since he can’t come, I choose to go my way.”

“Isn’t Stellenbosch where all the vineyards are?” I said, keen to show I’d done a bit of homework. “I think Janet’s got a day trip planned out that way. There’s a minibus that drives you round some of the best ones, so you can do lots of tasting without someone having to stay sober.”

Maria laughed. “Yes, there are a few companies that do that sort of thing. I hope you have a good day for it. Some of the big estates are a bit commercialised, but hopefully, they’ll take you to a couple of the smaller family businesses too.”

“It sounds a great place to study,” I said. “I had a wonderful time at uni. I’m sure you’ll love it, Hansie. And I’m really looking forward to seeing Cape Town. Janet’s going to show me all the touristy things, like Table Mountain. And I really want to see the penguins.”

Maria laughed. “Boulders Beach, yes, that’s just south of the city, at Simon’s Town,” she said. “We took Hansie when he was small. All the tourists go there, and I mean all; it can get awfully crowded. But don’t let me put you off. There are some nice beaches too. Where in Cape Town are you staying?”

I explained that Janet’s family lived in Newlands, just east of Table Mountain, but that her uncle had an apartment in Kalk Bay, right by the sea, and Janet was house-sitting while this uncle was away for a few months. So I was staying with her and planning to spend a lot of time relaxing on the beach and topping up my tan.

“Ah, you’re lucky; Kalk Bay is beautiful, and just along the coast from your penguins,” she said with a smile. “I can recommend some good places to eat too, although I expect your friend knows most of them already.”

We chatted on for quite a long time. Maria told me lots about her life in South Africa: how she’d been brought up on a farm near a place called Grahamstown, in the days of apartheid, which she agreed was an evil system, though she assured me that the politicians were if anything even more corrupt now, and the poor people were still poor, despite the opportunities available to them in theory. It was fascinating to hear a first-hand account of things I’d only previously read about (Janet had never wanted to talk about it much), and in no time at all the train manager came around and called us through to lunch.

I was pleased when Maria insisted I joined them at their table so we could continue our conversation. Away from his game, Hansie joined in with our chat, and I couldn’t help noticing him casting an occasional glance at my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my shirt was tight enough to show off the curve of my tits, and the little buds of my nipples. I didn’t mind; if he hadn’t been with his step-mother, I might have undone another button or two to give him a bit more of a view.

The meal was delicious, though I needed to go back to my compartment for a rest afterwards; I wasn’t used to a full three courses at that time of day. In the end, I dropped off for a couple of hours, and then spent some time reading and looking out of the window at the flat landscape going past outside. I was excited to see a real-live monkey by the side of the track at one point, as well as a small herd of what I thought were probably springbok. No giraffes, though I assumed they were mostly confined to the game reserves along with the other exciting things like lions and elephants. Janet had promised we’d see some of them later in the holiday, so I wasn’t too bothered that they weren’t exactly lining up by the railway track just for my benefit.

There was apparently “high tea” at 5:00, but I stayed in my compartment during that. If it was anything like the “high teas” I’d read about in Enid Blyton books it would be too much to cope with so soon after lunch, especially as I needed to leave room for the five-course dinner that had been promised. Maria had insisted that I should join them again, and I was more than happy to do so.

I also thought dinner required something more formal than shorts and shirt. I’d bought one long sleeveless dress that was simple but elegant, with a high neck but cut quite low at the back, making it nice and cool on a hot evening like this. Because it left my back bare it was best worn without a bra, which suited me just fine. It’s so much nicer being braless in warm weather, and the dress was cut close enough to give my 32Bs all the support they needed, while the high neck meant that I wasn’t likely to give Hansie any flashes of bare tit if I bent over; however much he might have enjoyed that.

Both Maria and Hansie seemed genuinely pleased to see me again when I joined them, and she even complimented me on my dress, saying how much it suited me.

“I only wish I still had the figure to wear something like that,” she said with a smile.

“Nonsense, you’ve got a great figure,” I said, truthfully. “You’d look terrific in it.”

She laughed. “Anyway, I think Hansie likes it too, don’t you?”

Hansie blushed bright red. “Oh, ma,” he said, “But you do look nice, Annie.”

Compliments over, it was time to eat. Maria ordered a bottle of wine which she said would go well with the meal. She let Hansie have a small glass, and the meal passed very enjoyably. Maybe because of the wine, Hansie became quite talkative, and we chatted happily about his experiences at school and how much he was looking forward to going to university. He asked questions about England, which I did my best to answer, and all things considered, it was a thoroughly enjoyable meal. Every now and then I caught him staring at my breasts again, which I found flattering rather than offensive. I wondered if he was thinking about what I would look like underneath the dress, and this thought made my nipples harden with excitement, giving him even more to look at. Even so, as Maria and I lingered over our coffee and finished off the wine, he began to get restless, and seemed grateful when she allowed him to leave the table and go back to their cabin.

“He likes his games,” she smiled, “and this journey can seem tedious after a while. I’m happy to just relax and enjoy the ride, but boys his age seem to get bored so quickly.”

She sighed and took a sip of wine.

“Ah, Annie, what it is to be a mother. Hansie, he’s a good boy, but I worry about him sometimes. I love him very much, but I can never replace his real mother; it’s just not the same. And it’s not good for a boy his age to have a father who’s away so much. He needs advice, guidance, on things that really need to come from a man. He has needs, desires; I’m sure you know what I mean.”

I assumed she was talking about sex. If South African teenage boys were anything like English ones, he spent most of his nights masturbating into a sock, fantasising about his teachers at school, or the unattainable girl next door. Perfectly normal behaviour in most circumstances, and something he’d grow out of as soon as he found a girlfriend who’d give him somewhere else to sow his seed.

“I’ve done my best to talk to him about it,” she went on. “But there aren’t any girls at his school, so how is he supposed to meet them? I try; I’ve shown him what a woman likes, and I’ve helped him out, just with my hand. He enjoys that.”

Whoa, I wasn’t expecting that. Had she just admitted to jerking off her own step-son? That was a bit more than just explaining about the birds and the bees, and how to use a condom.

She noticed my surprise and blushed a little.

“Ah, yes, I admit I have gone a bit further than most mothers would with their sons. But when it first happened his father had been away for several weeks, and I was missing his attention. Women have needs too, as I’m sure you know. Talking to Hansie about his penis had aroused me, and I offered to stroke it for him. He enjoyed it, and so did I, and since then I have done it for him many times. I have shown him my breasts, and let him touch them.”

She paused again and took a large gulp from her wine-glass. “I’m sorry, I’m embarrassing you. I know it’s not usual, but it is nice for us both. It relieves him, and it gives me pleasure. But I have drawn the line there, Annie, and have never allowed him to go further. Sometimes he has put his hand on my leg and pushed it up my skirt, but I have stopped him there. I have thought of what it would be like to have sex with him, to feel his penis inside me, but no; I may only be his step-mother, but it would still be wrong. I don’t think his father would understand.”

She was becoming visibly agitated as she made this confession. I still wasn’t sure why she was telling me all this. I assumed she’d been wanting to get it off her chest for a long time, and I was the perfect audience. We’d never meet again after tomorrow, so she’d never have to worry about her guilty secret getting out among her friends.

She took a few deep breaths and went on.

“But I do worry about him. He is going to university in only a few months, and he is still a virgin. Of course, he will have sex there, at least I hope so, but I am afraid that if his first experience is not good, it will spoil everything for him. I would hate him to miss out. I remember what it was like for me; I had fun, I learnt a lot. But I was already experienced, and he isn’t. I wish he could at least lose his virginity before he goes away.”

She gave a wry smile and drained her glass.

“I expect I’m just fussing over nothing,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

It was at this point that an idea entered my head. It was a crazy idea, and if I’d had time to think about it I’d probably have dismissed it outright, but for some reason, I just opened my mouth and let it out.

“I could do it,” I said. “Tonight, on this train. I could initiate him, let him fuck me. Then it’d be done. We’ll probably never meet again. He fancies me, I can tell. The way he was looking at me this evening in this dress, without a bra; I bet he was fantasising about my body. Given more time, he’d probably even make a pass, if I led him on a bit. What do you think?”

Maria didn’t even look shocked, just relieved.

“That is such a wonderful idea. Would you really do that?”

I shrugged. “He won’t be my first one-night stand, and I’m sure he won’t be the last. But I’d like to do it, sure. He’s nice; you’re nice. It must be fate that we met like this. I remember my first fuck. It was with a boy a bit older than me, who knew what he was doing, and he made it really special. I could do that for Hansie, show him how good it can be, if it’s done right.”

She reached out and took my hands in hers, squeezing them. She gave me a deliciously naughty smile; I realised that she had probably enjoyed plenty of sex herself; probably still did, when her husband was home.

“Let’s do it, just as you suggest,” she agreed. Then she looked thoughtful. “But should I maybe talk to Hansie first? I’ve warned him about being careful who he sleeps with; he might be nervous; he might worry I’ll be angry. We’ve talked a lot, I know he’ll be happy if he knows I want it like this. Why don’t you go to your cabin and wait? Give me half an hour. Either I’ll send Hansie along, or come myself to tell you he’s not keen. But I’m sure he will be.”

That made sense. She squeezed my hands again. “Thank you, Annie. If you do this, I think it will be good. Good for Hansie, and maybe good for you too. His penis really is very nice.”

We both went back to our cabins. After enjoying a quick shower in the cubicle at the end of the carriage, I wondered what I should wear. Some sexy lingerie? I’d brought a few lacy undergarments with me, but nothing special. Or maybe nothing at all? In the end, I just wrapped my light bath-robe around my otherwise nude body. That way there’d be no awkward fussing with clips, zips and buttons; I could just slip it off, and we’d be away.

I sat on the couchette, my heart beating. The thought did cross my mind that Hansie wouldn’t want to come; that he just didn’t fancy me. Hell, he’d better not stand me up. I slipped my hand under my robe and felt between my legs. I was hot and soaking wet with anticipation.

There was a light tap on the door. My heart began to thump like crazy. Who was it? Hansie or Maria? At least I didn’t have to go far to open the door. I opened it and was absurdly relieved to see Hansie standing there, wrapped in a bath-robe. He smiled shyly.

“Hi, Annie. Can I come in?”

“Of course you can,” I grinned, and pulled him through the door, sliding the latch once he was safely inside.

“I’m so glad you’ve come,” I said. Not wasting any time, I put my arms around him and kissed him on the lips. His arms went around me, and soon we were snogging enthusiastically. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and then pushed him down onto the couchette, letting my robe fall open and revealing the lack of anything underneath.

“Oh fuck,” he exclaimed. His eyes flicked over my naked body, torn between my nice firm little titties dangling in front of him and the even more enticing bulge of my plump hairless pubic mound, waxed smooth and bare. My nipples were already hard with excitement.

“What do you think?” I asked, jiggling my tits up and down in front of him. “I’m afraid they’re not very big, but they’re all mine.”

“Oh Annie, they’re perfect,” he said, reaching up and touching them, sending a tingle of excitement through my body.

“Mm, naughty boy,” I murmured. I could see something stirring and twitching inside his robe, down at crotch level. I reached down and slipped my hand inside, finding the warm meaty shaft of his penis, already semi-erect.

“Oh, wow,” I said with a smile, “That does feel nice. Can I see it?”

He gave a shy smile and untied his robe, pulling it open. Like me, he was naked underneath, and I was rewarded with my first view of his member. Even in its semi-tumescent state, it was impressive. Nestling in a thicket of dark pubic hair, the thick shaft was topped with a plump circumcised head, edged with a wide rim that looked as if it would feel great rubbing against my internal vaginal walls.

I took the shaft in one hand and gave it a few gentle strokes. It visibly hardened, and a small blob of clear pre-cum dribbled out of the end. I bent over and dabbed at it with my tongue.

“Oh, Hansie, you are a big boy,” I purred. Every man likes to hear this sort of thing, but in Hansie’s case, it was true. He was a big boy, and getting bigger by the second.

I licked my lips. “I know you like having it rubbed,” I said, “but has anyone ever sucked it before?”

He blushed and quickly shook his head. I wondered if that was true; had Maria really never put this delightful member in her mouth? But now wasn’t the time to ask questions like that.

“Not all girls like to suck cocks,” I informed him, “but luckily I’m one of those that do.”

I leant over and licked around the smooth helmet, tickling at the little hole with my tongue. He whimpered gently.

“Like that, do you?” I asked. “Most boys do.”

His cock seemed to be pretty much fully erect now. Thick purple veins stood out all along its length, and it throbbed as I held it in my hand. It was certainly a fine specimen.

Opening my mouth wide, I put the whole of his knob between my lips and slowly lowered my head onto it, allowing his long shaft to fill my mouth until the bulging tip was nudging at the back of my throat. I then sucked in my cheeks and slurped my tongue around the shaft. I could feel it pulsating in my mouth, and Hansie began to rock his hips backwards and forwards, gently fucking my mouth. He was starting to breathe quite heavily, and I sat up, letting his cock slip out. I didn’t want him to ejaculate quite yet.

“You taste delicious,” I assured him. “Sometimes I let the boys come in my mouth, but only if they’re not going to fuck me properly. You’re going all the way.”

It was time to get serious. Quickly I pulled my robe right off, leaving me totally naked next to him on the couchette. His hands shaking slightly, he pulled his arms out of his robe too and let it slide out from under his body onto the floor. He had the slim, toned body of someone who played a lot of sport and kept himself fit, not over-muscular, but with a flat stomach and strong chest. If I’d wanted a male body to lust after, it would have been pretty much like his. Most importantly, his penis was standing up like a flagpole, still glistening with my saliva.

Feeling bolder, he reached over and touched my bare breasts again, running his hands over the soft, firm mounds. I licked my lips. It felt nice, especially when he stroked my nipples. They instantly hardened again, forming tight little buds on my chest.

“You’ve got lovely tits, Annie,” he said. “They feel really nice.”

“Thank you,” I murmured. “And I love what you’re doing to them. My nipples are really sensitive. Why don’t you suck them?”

He leant over and took my right bud in his mouth, rubbing it between his lips, then sucking on it and flicking it with his tongue. I held his head and ran my fingers through his hair as he moved to the left one and gave it the same treatment. Fuck, it felt good. I felt a tingle run through my body, from my tits down to my pussy. I knew I’d be getting even wetter down there, wet and ready to fuck.

He may have been a virgin, but I’d have bet money that mine weren’t the first tits he’d sucked. Maria had said he’d touched hers, and I reckoned they’d gone a bit further. He knew what he was doing with his tongue all right.

Then I felt Hansie’s hand on my bare thigh, stroking and squeezing it. This was the point at which his step-mother had always stopped him, but that certainly wasn’t my intention. Instead, I lowered myself onto my back until I was prone on the couchette. Then I took his hand from my thigh and pulled it towards the warm, wet cavern between my legs.

“Put your finger inside,” I whispered. “Feel how soft and wet I am.”

He fumbled at first, fiddling with my labia while trying to find my hole, but soon enough his finger slipped between the wet folds and found my entrance. He gasped as he found himself slipping inside.

“Oh Annie, it’s so hot and wet.”

“That’s because I’m turned on so much,” I breathed. “I love what you’re doing. Now put another finger in. Then move them inside me. Oh God, yes, that’s it.”

He began to stroke the insides of my vaginal walls, pressing against the soft pliable flesh. I wriggled against him, encouraging him to push deeper.

“If you just curve your fingers up inside, and stroke, that feels really nice,” I whispered.

“Like that?”

“Oh fuck yes, just there.”

I was ready to fuck already, but there was another important thing I needed to show him.

I took his hand and slipped his fingers out, sticky with my juices.

“This is where I really like to be touched,” I whispered. I guided his fingers to the hard little button of my clitoris and pressed them against it. Just doing it made me tingle.

“Ah, fuck,” I gasped, “that’s right [gasp], just there. Just rub your fingers up and down on the bud. Not too hard. Round and round is nice too. Ah yes, just like that. Keep going.”

Whether by luck or judgment, he’d hit on just the rhythm that really got me going.

“That’s it, lover, keep going, don’t stop,” I encouraged him. “That’s it, that’s it, quicker, quicker. Oh Jesus fucking Christ!”

And I came, shaking and rocking up and down on the couchette so hard that we almost both fell off onto the floor. I pulled Hansie down on top of me, put my arms around him and kissed him on the lips, as my orgasm fizzed through me.

“Fuck it, that was good,” I gasped. “You actually made me come. Just ask your ma how good that feels for a woman. But now I want you to fuck me.”

There was one other little thing to do first. I reached over into my bag and took out a little folder containing a couple of condoms. “I’m sure your ma’s told you about these,” I said. “You’re going to have to wear one now. And I don’t want to sound preachy here, but you’re going to need one every time you fuck, especially someone new. I’m clean, and I’m sure you are, but you don’t know every girl is. And they might not even be taking precautions themselves. There are two things you don’t want: AIDS or a baby. Believe you me, they’ll both fuck you up. Babies are cool when you find the right girl and want to settle down, but not when you’re still sleeping around and having fun.”

Lecture over, I took a condom out of the packet, positioned it over his bulbous knob, and rolled it down. Then I settled down on my back and spread my legs in a friendly, welcoming gesture.

“My wet cunt’s ready for you now,” I said. “It’s time to put your cock in me.”

All this mucky talk was making me horny. I really did want his big stiff hard-on inside me. With my hands, I spread my labia wide open, showing him my glistening, sticky inner flesh and my gaping hole. I reached out, grabbed his cock and positioned the bulging knob at the entrance. I rubbed it back and forth a few times, making sure the condom was well lubricated with my cunt juices as well as its own gel.

“This is it, Hansie,” I whispered. “I’m all yours. Go on, push it in.”

“Oh fuck, yes,” he stammered. Then with one swift movement, he plunged in. God, his cock was thick. I let out a squeal of genuine pleasure as I felt it fill me.

He paused for a moment, as if amazed to see his own erect penis buried in a girl’s snatch. Then he remembered what he was supposed to do, and began to pump it in and out.

“Go deeper,” I encouraged him. “Go on, push it right in. Right up to your balls.”

I began to rock backwards and forwards in time with his thrusts, making sure he went as deep as possible. His ball-sack slapped back and forth against my arse, and his cock made a delightful slurping noise.

“Oh fuck, this is amazing,” he gasped.

“Ah, don’t stop,” I urged him. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. That’s so fucking good, oh fuck yes, so good.”

Inevitably, this first fuck wasn’t going to last that long. He began to thrust harder and faster as his climax approached. I was rocking about on the couch, my little tits bouncing up and down, our bodies glistening with sweat.

“Oh Annie, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum,” he cried. With one final thrust, he pinned me to the couchette as he climaxed, crying out as he filled the condom with squirt after squirt after squirt of his hot thick semen. A drop of his sweat dripped from his forehead onto my tits as he rested, panting, the aftermath of his climax washing over him.

Slowly he pulled his cock out of me, still partly hard. The condom had slipped down a bit with the force of his fucking, and the end was almost completely filled with a thick pool of white spunk.

“Oh, Hansie, you’ve come so much,” I breathed. “Let’s see it.”

Expertly I unrolled the condom as far as I could without spilling the contents, then eased it off the end of his cock. The scent of fresh semen filled my nostrils. I held it up, letting the liquid settle in the end.

“My God, look at all that,” I said with a smile. “Did all that really come out of your balls?”

I held it over my chest and tipped it up, letting the thick contents ooze out and drip all over my tits in a series of thick gobbets. Then I rubbed it all over them, making them all shiny and sticky. That always made me feel deliciously dirty.

But Hansie wasn’t ready to stop yet. He put his hand round his cock, coated in a sheen of his ejaculate, and squeezed it. Good grief, it was getting hard again. I’d forgotten how horny eighteen-year old boys could be.

“Oh Hansie, you want to fuck again, don’t you?” I guessed.

He nodded. “It felt so good, Annie, actually fucking you. Can’t I do it again? Just once more?”

“Of course you can, sweetie,” I smiled. I threw the little box of condoms at him. “You can do this yourself this time. And you’d better enjoy it, ‘cos this is the last one.”

I opened my legs again while he put the condom on, then pulled him down onto me as his cock slipped back inside. This time he lasted a lot longer, and I showed him a couple of other positions, including the cowgirl, with me on top. He liked that one, especially stroking my still-sticky tits andTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.