MR. DEAN'S BED—Saturday Morning

        Something was poking Dia from behind, or rather poking Dia’s firm young behind, something hard and insistent and alive; rousing her awake. What the fuc—? Hm, I smell Mr—.

        Oh, I’m in Mr. Dean’s bed and within the next moment he’d shifted his warm and masculine strong hold on her body spooned against his, as he pushed from behind and entered her still slick cunt.

        “Hmmm. Yes, Mr. Dean.”

        She reached back to hold him to her and encourage him to not stop, it felt so good, in his warm bed, with his hard masculine grown up body against hers and inside—.

        Mr. Dean’s fucking me with his morning hard on, and I’m in his bed, in his house, alone with him, having sex. All kinds of nasty, pervy, delicious hot sex. And the rest of the squad said I’d never get Mr. Dean to—.

        Oh, god….

        Her thoughts ceased their crazed squirrel circlings, as lust’s sensations and aroused feelings overtook her in tandem and she moved in motion with Mr. Dean, who held her lush, naked young body to his own hard muscle one. Dia moved in contrary motion against Mr. Dean, and around and around, and in general drove him mad for her and she came nearly when he did.

        “Oh, fuck me, girl. I could really get used to that, every morning.”

        “I don’t think that’s physically or emotionally possible, Mr. D; but, it would be so delicious, just the same, to try. Yum.”

        “Exactly. And how grown up of you,” he breathed into her ear, hot breath burning her, their bodies hot and damp with sweat, cooling and still reverberating. “You’re learning how to fuck right, just like I like it. Hot, ready, wet and tight. No coy shit, just wanting it, from m….”

        He didn’t finish talking, as he wrapped a strong, hairy leg around hers, holding her fixed in place below, while he pulled her wrists over her head and held them there above, enjoying the view of her on full display, her firm breasts and flat belly and pubic rise, before pinching and fondling sensitive nipples and areolas; making her completely and utterly lush, while still stuffed full with his fat cock.

        Dia was out of her mind, feeling accomplished at lovemaking as she came, more than once, and Mr. Dean shot a full jizz load into her. She was glad she’d changed her cervical sponge when she’d gotten up to piss overnight. Good thing, too.

        Mr. D loved some pussy, and she loved some Mr. D dick.

        “Ah, Dia, I’m so glad you … came.” She giggled, and she heard the smile in his voice, then looked around to see the glint in his beautiful, happy eyes, “I’ll wash then make breakfast for us both; I’ll leave you plenty hot water.”

        “I can cook, Mr. D, breakfast and stuff.”

        “Okay, maybe latter, for now, though, you can primp as long as you like, you’re my houseguest.”

        “I’m your fuckguest.”

        “Oh, yes, you are that, too, Ms. Hot Stuff, or should I say Ms. Hot, Slipper Wet Cunt?”

        “And Tight.”

        “Yeah, that too.”

        He stroked her body, feeling her up, gazing at her, and then kissed her mouth, her tits, her belly and her pubic mound, then bounded out of bed, as if he didn’t run, he’d stay and fuck her crippled. She watched him go, she always watched him.

        What a great ass he has.

MR. DEAN'S BED—Late Saturday Morning Breakfast

        Dia loved the look in Mr. D’s eyes when he looked up from setting the table and saw her.

        “How many lovely outfits for that lovely body of yours did you bring?”

        “Just a few. You like?” She turned around slowly, but whipped her head around to not miss him seeing her lovely round cheeks peeking out from the sheer boy panties she wore.…

[more to cum / come]

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