She had her own plans for this night. He would stay close to the door and answer every ring of the doorbell. She didn’t mind; it was a subtler form ...f bondage.By the time she was back dressed in one of his old shirts and an old skirt, another crew was at the door. “It’s green!” a voice screamed from the porch. It sounded like a mother, rather than a child. There were shrieks of laughter and then a clatter of small shoes on the steps.“See?” he asked. Somebody had noticed his green arm. He, she. Her straining hips tried to keep up. It felt so good.His face contorted, he couldn’t bear to miss a beat. Furiously humping at his trapped fist, he couldn’t miss a second.Ripping through her, it finally came, impossible to hold off. Crying and whimpering, as its relentless energy, worked, buried deep. The soaking sheets clung.A final stroke and he was there. Spattering cum at its powerful release. His teeth clenched, he checked for spillage. He’d be found out, if she stood on some on. More

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