Emma's Night Out

Emma had pulled her head away and was jacking him off fast, pulling his prick down towards her breasts. When he came, with Emma's hand still on his cock, the first jet landed on her right nipple and splashed under her chin. She let go, his cock sprang up and he jerked again, sending a gout of sticky white semen over her lips, her right cheek and into her hair. Then he grasped her tits, buried his prick in her cleavage and jerked himself off again and again and again, his cum bubbling and spitting from her cleavage and oozing over her neck. When he had finished he rubbed his prick all over her tits, covering them with a thin smear of semen. Then, squeezing his foreskin forwards, he wiped the last few drips off onto her lips before smearing his wet, sticky prick across her eyes and cheeks and forehead.

Alex pulled up his trousers. "Its half past two", he said, "you'd better go."

So Emma pulled her bra, covered in streaks of cum, up over her sticky tits and used the edge of her top to wipe some of the cum from her face and hair before slipping it back over her shoulders. Disentangling her thong from the buckle of her shoe she pulled it, wet and soiled, up her stockinged legs to hide her sore, aching cunt. Then she pulled down her skirt and noticed with dismay that one of the buttons had come off. When she got out of the car her legs were shaking and she saw that cum was still dribbling down her stockings. She wiped it off roughly with the palm of her hand and then wiped her hand in the condensation that was forming on the roof of the car.

No one bothered to say goodbye.

As she tottered unsteadily towards home on her high heels, she wondered what she would say to James.