It’s been months since I met Arno and I’m masturbating passionately in my room and moaning his name “Arnoo….oh..” “May I help?” he appears from behind the cupboard making me squeak. He chuckles a little but is taken back by me pouncing on him and kissing so wildly. While I’m still naked, he squeezes my butt and give it a light slap “You’ve been missing me it seems,” he says with humour and passion and returns my kiss. “Shall we catch up with what I’ve missed? How about we start with your breasts and all the way down?”

Lying on me, his legs tangled he starts massaging my breast and his thumb giving my nipples all the attention it’s been craving. His long fingers running down my navel and I could feel his warm breath on my shoulder mixed with his sweaty musky scent. I’m too focused on it and now that his middle finger pressing against my clit is an overwhelming feeling, I can’t help but moan. With a smirk, his long manly fingers slides down to my entrance, slowly dipping in and out. His mouth pouting on my breasts, his tongue tracing my nipples. I moan louder and with the already built pleasure, I come with his fingers still inside me, my juices all over his hand. I search for his mouth and kiss him, push him onto his back and his fingers are still inside me. I wish he wouldn’t take it out, ever.