Christmas Tree Hunting

He drew her close beside him on the couch, put an arm around her shoulders, his hand grasping a breast, a thumb thrumming an engorged nipple, while he diddled her cunt and finger fucked her with the other hand during the next commercial break. Throwing her head back on top of the sofa back and closing her eyes to concentrate fully on the sensations of what he was doing with his beefy fingers, Angela laid a hand on the one he was cupping her muff with, intending to guide him. But he obviously already knew exactly what to do with those fingers. Shuddering, she saw flashes of light behind her closed eyelids and felt very, very wet.

She was panting and mewing when he fucked her again at the change of the third quarter into the fourth, her belly on the arm of the sofa, and his body folded over her, fucking her from behind. This time he went longer before ejaculating, a good five minutes of playing time into the fourth quarter—fifteen minutes by watch time. But initially the pumping was on a slowdown, as he had his head and much of his attention turned to the game.