Thirty-two

The first time I saw Andreas it never crossed my mind that I would end up in bed with him, nevertheless married.

Now, now he’s touching my butt and I like it so much I forget how to function. I like that he’s touching me, I like where he is touching me but more that he’s making sure that I like it.

He makes me forget.

My body seems to know what to do. The tingling sensation between my legs gets stronger as his touch turns rougher. I know that the thing between his legs, the scariest part of him is pressing against my thighs getting harder and I can’t help but notice his breaths deepening as his hips roll under me. In other circumstances I would be embarrassed by how my body tightens in some places and loosens in others but for once I don’t care.

His nails will surely leave marks on my butt.

When his hands lowered my panties, I hid my smile against my knuckles. I shouldn’t had worn my long pajamas; he wouldn’t be struggling with the extra fabric.

The light coming from the morni