Thinking of good old days

Brittany Spring flew in from Russia. We had history, and the old heat came back fast. One story about our wild nights and we were both wet. She spread for me first. I knelt, tongue dragging over her slick folds, tasting the sweetness I remembered. She moaned, hips rising, fingers gripping my hair as I worked her clit in steady circles. Then it was my turn. She buried her face between my thighs, licking deep, hungry, until I shook. Afterwards we raided the drawer. Thick glass. Soft silicone. A curved toy that pressed just right against my front wall. We took turns: me pushing into her slowly while she rubbed my clit, then her sliding the thickest one inside me until my legs trembled. We moved from bed to floor, legs tangled, toys wet with both of us. Every thrust made her whimper. Every slow grind made me bite my lip. We didn’t stop until we were both spent, flushed, and still smiling.