"I… I shouldn't…" she whispered, but her voice cracked, the protest sounding weak even to her own ears.
Tracy's chest heaved, her heavy breasts rising and falling rapidly against me. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown with a mixture of shame, fear, and undeniable arousal.
She bit her lower lip, clearly struggling with the words, but her hips gave a tiny, involuntary roll against me, her soaked pussy brushing against my thigh.
I tightened my grip on her wrists, pressing my hard cock more firmly against her belly, letting her feel its heat and thickness. "Say it, Tracy. Tell me you want your son's age-mate to fuck you. Tell me you want this young cock inside you."
Her breathing became ragged. The shame was still there, but the lust was winning. Her thighs pressed together, trying to ease the ache between them, and a fresh trickle of her juices ran down her leg.
