The Handy Man

I met her through a dating site and, although she lived too far away, we decided to at least meet in the middle. We spent the afternoon together, touching, holding hands, stroking each other's inner thighs. We went our separate ways with a kiss, spent three weeks furiously texting until she came to visit. She walked in the door and lunged at me, grabbed me and attacked me with hungry kisses and bites.

We couldn't stay thought. We already had plans to go out for dinner and dancing with a lesbian couple who were friends of mine. She danced like she was on fire. Finally returning home, we barely made it up to the bedroom. She shed her clothes and laid on the bed, naked and beckoning. I laid on top of her, feeling her body. She was soft, hot and urgent. My hand stroked her breasts and stomach and reached down between her thighs. She spread her legs. As my finger slipped into her wet, dripping pussy, she moaned with pleasure. My lesbian friends had told me that there are lots of things you can do with your hands, so I started finger fucking her. Her moaning grew louder and I put in a second finger and then a third, fucking her furiously. Her back arched, her head tilted upwards, her eyes closed and her breathing became faster and faster. She uttered a cry and as the orgasm engulfed her, she began squirting, her hips spasmodically and uncontrollably rocking and twisting. After a few minutes, she caught her breath, kissed me with a fury, gave me a hungry look and asked me to do it again. I reached down between her legs...