LookAtHerNow
- 1 year ago
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Her Eyes Look So Beautiful, With My Cock In Her Mo free porn video
I’ve often heard it joked that a woman’s eyes are never more beautiful than when they’re looking up at you, with your cock in their mouth.
Until this moment, I’d never realised that throw away comment was in fact true…
———————————
Since our escapades together in Gloucester, it’s fair to say relations with my French secretary, Catherine, have been a little ‘on edge’.
Before the business trip, we had kept a strictly professional relationship, albeit with a big dose of flirting thrown into the mix. But since that night, where we didn’t actually fuck, I hastened to add, the sexual tension has been on a whole new level.
I guess it stems from the fact that neither of us are quite sure where we now stand, and in the cold light of day, aren’t particularly keen to address it. Suffice it to say, we slept in the same bed as each other that night, and she fell to sleep naked in my arms - after giving me the most wonderful blow job of my life.
To Catherine, it was apparently just a ‘little fun’. Because I hadn’t actually fucked her, she apparently hadn’t been unfaithful. At the time I was more than prepared to go along with her logic. But in many ways a blow job seems at least – if not even more intimate - than a fuck. I know damn well my wife wouldn’t see any difference!
Yet in the times I’d tried to get close to Catherine at work, a touch of her shoulder, or hand on the small of her back as I lead her through a door, she’s made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t appropriate.
But today she’s different again. Finally seems more relaxed, more open and flirty again. It’s almost like a suitable length of time has now passed, that it can be swept under the carpet and we can resume as we were pre:Gloucester.
So come the end of the afternoon, she brings over a cup of tea and facing me, perches her pert little behind on my desk, stilettos on the small chair beside my own larger recliner. I can’t help but take a sneaky peak up her toned, stockinged-legs, hoping for a tantalising glimpse of stocking-top…
“Jonathan! What are you looking at?” she scolds.
I stutter, trying to come up with a suitable answer, before noticing the smile on her face…
“What would your wife say…?” she teases in that sexy French-English of hers. Swear to God I could get a hard on just listening to her talk some days…
“She’d probably give me a slap across the face!”
“Maybe that’s what I should do to?” Catherine retorts.
“I’d rather you kiss it!” comes my instinctive reply.
And to my surprise, that’s exactly what she does.
Initially a little peck on the lips, as she gets off the table and bends down to me, before pulling away briefly, her eyes flickering at mine, gauging my reaction through her black, rimmed glasses.
Satisfied with what she sees, she moves in again. This time the kiss is full-on passionate. Her lips linger on mine, and as I open my mouth to feel her hot breath against mine, her tongue enters and probes. She’s a delicious kisser, and my hands wrap around her waist as she slowly sits down on my lap and encircles her arms around my neck.
Our tongues entwine and dance and I can’t resist my hand running up and down her stockinged thigh, before moving around the back to gently squeeze her pert little arse cheek, toned from all that running she’s been doing lately.
“God I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to kiss you again…” I say, as we finally come back up for air and look lustily into one another’s eyes.
“And I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to have your cock in my mouth again…” she replies, before sinking to her knees in front of me.
I can’t quite believe this is happening again, but I’m not going to argue about it.
Lying back in my chair, I feel her fingers undoing my zip and my cock is already rock hard and waiting in anticipation of what’s to come. I run my hands through her short, blonde spikey hair, and as I do, the photo of my wife on my desk catches my eye. You wouldn’t be smiling if you could see this, I think spitefully to myself, which causes a brief surge of guilt to course through my veins.
But as I feel my little French secretary reach inside with her fingers and touch my eager shaft, all guilt dissipates and I focus on the matter in hand, if you pardon the pun! Looking down she is smiling up and me and licks her lips in a beautifully, slutty way.
“Looks like someone’s pleased to see me…” she grins and she couldn’t be more right! My cock absolutely loves the touch of this sensual woman and has responded with a magnificent full blooded erection, all primed and ready for action.
She starts by gripping the base and begins gently tossing me off, all the while looking into my eyes, with her ice blues’. God, I’m gonna enjoy cumming over that beautiful face of hers!
Opening her mouth, she begins to lightly kiss my ball-sac, peppering it with kisses as I’m reminded of her expertise, her ability to take me to where no woman has ever done. My poor wife simply doesn’t get close. Her tongue then moves to the base of my throbbing shaft and licks the underside, slowly moving upwards, leaving a moist trail in its wake, finishing at my uncircumcised bell-end.
I say nothing, but my hand moves forward and my palm alights on her left breast, which I softly press through her cotton blouse. Her tits are not dissimilar to my wife’s, small and pert, though at a guess I’d say Catherine’s are maybe a size up from my wife’s 32A’s, and almost certainly a cup fuller than her’s.
But they’re not Catherine’s main attraction. The sum of Catherine is most definitely greater than the parts, as she exudes a sexuality unlike any other woman I’ve ever come across. A petite, athletic, blonde in her early thirties, with delicate, elfin-like features, she has the air of confidence of a woman who knows that most men would fuck her given half the chance. I know my boss had certainly tried – indeed his rejection was the main reason I inherited her as my own secretary, when I accepted the job offer earlier in the year. And then there was the young guy earlier in the evening at that conference, who was hanging round her like a lovesick pup, before she got bored of his advances and instead wisked me off to the bedroom. So I appreciate how lucky I am, even if I haven’t yet had the pleasure of fucking her either.
She’s now taken me fully inside her mouth and I feel her sucking and licking and occasionally her front teeth scr****g along the sensitive skin of my foreskin and upper shaft. It’s devine.
My hand has now worked its way underneath her blouse to her bra-less breast and is rhythmically squeezing and unsqueezing it, revelling in its softness, in stark contrast to the rock hard nipple that I’ve trapped between my first two fingers. She’s evidently enjoying my fondling as she’s placed one of her own hands over mine now, as if to give guidance.
And then she begins talking between the brief spells of frantic licking and sucking of my cock, to give me little snippets of her mind. How she’s thought about me ever since that night in Gloucester. How she masturbates in bed at night, thinking about our first night together. How when she sucks her husband off, she wishes it was me. How when he’s fucking her, she’s imagining it’s me.
And her words send my own imagination running, how its me that’s ploughing into her tight little blonde cunt. How it’s me that’s gasping as I unload my thick cum inside her hot snatch…
And all the while as she does so, she’s looking into my eyes, fixing me with an intense, lustfilled stare, the whites of her eyes, all large and intense, snow-like around her dilated ice-blue pupils. And with my cock still sat, lovingly, deep inside her mouth, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful face in my life.
“Oh Catherine…” I gasp, as I grab either side of her head with both hands, “I’m going to cum!” I declare, as if to warn her of the impending explosion.
I’m literally fucking her mouth now, uncontollably like a dog on heat. All the times I’ve wanked furiously and satisfyingly whilst dreaming of her these last few weeks paling into insignificance now, as I feel that familiar surge through my body. My adductors and arse cheeks contract violently as the first jet of thick, white cream catapults out of me. To her credit, Catherine makes no attempt to move, she simply takes it, hard and to the back of her throat, as if trying to demonstrate her own desire and need for my seed.
Despite her best efforts though she gags and has to pull away. But I’m nowhere near finished, as I look down on my willing Gallic beauty. Holding her head with one hand, whilst wanking the tip of my cock with the other, the next rope splashes across her glasses, causing her to flinch, quickly followed by another spurt onto her her beautiful blonde fringe. And I’m gasping and twitching and feeling nothing but love for this little fuck whore.
Were my wife to walk through this door right now - the wife of my two c***dren, my c***dhood sweetheart and soulmate - I still wouldn’t be able to stop myself and quite frankly, wouldn’t care. Right now, Catherine is everything. The rest of the universe simply doesn’t matter.
Composing herself again, she takes me inside her warm mouth once more, as I empty the final remnants of my orgasm inside her. I let out a gutteral groan as the final twitches of my body release the hot cum, but it’s weaker now and more liquid and my eager secretary swallows everything I’ve got left for her.
Spent and exhausted, heart pounding like I could have a coronary, I lurch back in my chair. Sitting back on my lap, she simply looks into my face and smiles.
“Thank you, Catherine, that was beautiful.” I say, stroking a flushed cheek.
“My pleasure.” she replies and kisses me on the lips, tenderly once more. I taste my own salty cum on them, and feel an unexpected surge of love for this alluring woman.
“If we’re going to have an affair, we need to lay down some rules…” Catherine starts to say, and my heart is racing as I listen on…
Blinded by lust and love, the likes of which I’ve never felt before or since, I nod in agreement to every stipulation. My little blonde bombshell in my arms, her hand gently stroking my now softening dick, I neither know nor care of the trouble she’ll eventually cause me...
Until this moment, I’d never realised that throw away comment was in fact true…
———————————
Since our escapades together in Gloucester, it’s fair to say relations with my French secretary, Catherine, have been a little ‘on edge’.
Before the business trip, we had kept a strictly professional relationship, albeit with a big dose of flirting thrown into the mix. But since that night, where we didn’t actually fuck, I hastened to add, the sexual tension has been on a whole new level.
I guess it stems from the fact that neither of us are quite sure where we now stand, and in the cold light of day, aren’t particularly keen to address it. Suffice it to say, we slept in the same bed as each other that night, and she fell to sleep naked in my arms - after giving me the most wonderful blow job of my life.
To Catherine, it was apparently just a ‘little fun’. Because I hadn’t actually fucked her, she apparently hadn’t been unfaithful. At the time I was more than prepared to go along with her logic. But in many ways a blow job seems at least – if not even more intimate - than a fuck. I know damn well my wife wouldn’t see any difference!
Yet in the times I’d tried to get close to Catherine at work, a touch of her shoulder, or hand on the small of her back as I lead her through a door, she’s made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t appropriate.
But today she’s different again. Finally seems more relaxed, more open and flirty again. It’s almost like a suitable length of time has now passed, that it can be swept under the carpet and we can resume as we were pre:Gloucester.
So come the end of the afternoon, she brings over a cup of tea and facing me, perches her pert little behind on my desk, stilettos on the small chair beside my own larger recliner. I can’t help but take a sneaky peak up her toned, stockinged-legs, hoping for a tantalising glimpse of stocking-top…
“Jonathan! What are you looking at?” she scolds.
I stutter, trying to come up with a suitable answer, before noticing the smile on her face…
“What would your wife say…?” she teases in that sexy French-English of hers. Swear to God I could get a hard on just listening to her talk some days…
“She’d probably give me a slap across the face!”
“Maybe that’s what I should do to?” Catherine retorts.
“I’d rather you kiss it!” comes my instinctive reply.
And to my surprise, that’s exactly what she does.
Initially a little peck on the lips, as she gets off the table and bends down to me, before pulling away briefly, her eyes flickering at mine, gauging my reaction through her black, rimmed glasses.
Satisfied with what she sees, she moves in again. This time the kiss is full-on passionate. Her lips linger on mine, and as I open my mouth to feel her hot breath against mine, her tongue enters and probes. She’s a delicious kisser, and my hands wrap around her waist as she slowly sits down on my lap and encircles her arms around my neck.
Our tongues entwine and dance and I can’t resist my hand running up and down her stockinged thigh, before moving around the back to gently squeeze her pert little arse cheek, toned from all that running she’s been doing lately.
“God I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to kiss you again…” I say, as we finally come back up for air and look lustily into one another’s eyes.
“And I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to have your cock in my mouth again…” she replies, before sinking to her knees in front of me.
I can’t quite believe this is happening again, but I’m not going to argue about it.
Lying back in my chair, I feel her fingers undoing my zip and my cock is already rock hard and waiting in anticipation of what’s to come. I run my hands through her short, blonde spikey hair, and as I do, the photo of my wife on my desk catches my eye. You wouldn’t be smiling if you could see this, I think spitefully to myself, which causes a brief surge of guilt to course through my veins.
But as I feel my little French secretary reach inside with her fingers and touch my eager shaft, all guilt dissipates and I focus on the matter in hand, if you pardon the pun! Looking down she is smiling up and me and licks her lips in a beautifully, slutty way.
“Looks like someone’s pleased to see me…” she grins and she couldn’t be more right! My cock absolutely loves the touch of this sensual woman and has responded with a magnificent full blooded erection, all primed and ready for action.
She starts by gripping the base and begins gently tossing me off, all the while looking into my eyes, with her ice blues’. God, I’m gonna enjoy cumming over that beautiful face of hers!
Opening her mouth, she begins to lightly kiss my ball-sac, peppering it with kisses as I’m reminded of her expertise, her ability to take me to where no woman has ever done. My poor wife simply doesn’t get close. Her tongue then moves to the base of my throbbing shaft and licks the underside, slowly moving upwards, leaving a moist trail in its wake, finishing at my uncircumcised bell-end.
I say nothing, but my hand moves forward and my palm alights on her left breast, which I softly press through her cotton blouse. Her tits are not dissimilar to my wife’s, small and pert, though at a guess I’d say Catherine’s are maybe a size up from my wife’s 32A’s, and almost certainly a cup fuller than her’s.
But they’re not Catherine’s main attraction. The sum of Catherine is most definitely greater than the parts, as she exudes a sexuality unlike any other woman I’ve ever come across. A petite, athletic, blonde in her early thirties, with delicate, elfin-like features, she has the air of confidence of a woman who knows that most men would fuck her given half the chance. I know my boss had certainly tried – indeed his rejection was the main reason I inherited her as my own secretary, when I accepted the job offer earlier in the year. And then there was the young guy earlier in the evening at that conference, who was hanging round her like a lovesick pup, before she got bored of his advances and instead wisked me off to the bedroom. So I appreciate how lucky I am, even if I haven’t yet had the pleasure of fucking her either.
She’s now taken me fully inside her mouth and I feel her sucking and licking and occasionally her front teeth scr****g along the sensitive skin of my foreskin and upper shaft. It’s devine.
My hand has now worked its way underneath her blouse to her bra-less breast and is rhythmically squeezing and unsqueezing it, revelling in its softness, in stark contrast to the rock hard nipple that I’ve trapped between my first two fingers. She’s evidently enjoying my fondling as she’s placed one of her own hands over mine now, as if to give guidance.
And then she begins talking between the brief spells of frantic licking and sucking of my cock, to give me little snippets of her mind. How she’s thought about me ever since that night in Gloucester. How she masturbates in bed at night, thinking about our first night together. How when she sucks her husband off, she wishes it was me. How when he’s fucking her, she’s imagining it’s me.
And her words send my own imagination running, how its me that’s ploughing into her tight little blonde cunt. How it’s me that’s gasping as I unload my thick cum inside her hot snatch…
And all the while as she does so, she’s looking into my eyes, fixing me with an intense, lustfilled stare, the whites of her eyes, all large and intense, snow-like around her dilated ice-blue pupils. And with my cock still sat, lovingly, deep inside her mouth, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful face in my life.
“Oh Catherine…” I gasp, as I grab either side of her head with both hands, “I’m going to cum!” I declare, as if to warn her of the impending explosion.
I’m literally fucking her mouth now, uncontollably like a dog on heat. All the times I’ve wanked furiously and satisfyingly whilst dreaming of her these last few weeks paling into insignificance now, as I feel that familiar surge through my body. My adductors and arse cheeks contract violently as the first jet of thick, white cream catapults out of me. To her credit, Catherine makes no attempt to move, she simply takes it, hard and to the back of her throat, as if trying to demonstrate her own desire and need for my seed.
Despite her best efforts though she gags and has to pull away. But I’m nowhere near finished, as I look down on my willing Gallic beauty. Holding her head with one hand, whilst wanking the tip of my cock with the other, the next rope splashes across her glasses, causing her to flinch, quickly followed by another spurt onto her her beautiful blonde fringe. And I’m gasping and twitching and feeling nothing but love for this little fuck whore.
Were my wife to walk through this door right now - the wife of my two c***dren, my c***dhood sweetheart and soulmate - I still wouldn’t be able to stop myself and quite frankly, wouldn’t care. Right now, Catherine is everything. The rest of the universe simply doesn’t matter.
Composing herself again, she takes me inside her warm mouth once more, as I empty the final remnants of my orgasm inside her. I let out a gutteral groan as the final twitches of my body release the hot cum, but it’s weaker now and more liquid and my eager secretary swallows everything I’ve got left for her.
Spent and exhausted, heart pounding like I could have a coronary, I lurch back in my chair. Sitting back on my lap, she simply looks into my face and smiles.
“Thank you, Catherine, that was beautiful.” I say, stroking a flushed cheek.
“My pleasure.” she replies and kisses me on the lips, tenderly once more. I taste my own salty cum on them, and feel an unexpected surge of love for this alluring woman.
“If we’re going to have an affair, we need to lay down some rules…” Catherine starts to say, and my heart is racing as I listen on…
Blinded by lust and love, the likes of which I’ve never felt before or since, I nod in agreement to every stipulation. My little blonde bombshell in my arms, her hand gently stroking my now softening dick, I neither know nor care of the trouble she’ll eventually cause me...
Tamera
- 26.02.2021
- 10
- 0
