He sighs and pulls away. A few swipes on his phone and a beautiful female voice singing in French over a soft and sensual beat fills the air. Bridgette closes her eyes and rocks to and fro. Then Henri’s leading her through the door. They’re dancing in place. His eyes dazzling, her heart full to bursting. With one hand on her cheek, he moves in for another sweet and searching kiss. His lips so tender against hers. The warmth starts as an ember then burns through her to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her body is alight with the sensation. It radiates from his touch on her cheek, his kiss, and his hand on the small of her back.
As they dance, Bridgette urges them toward the bed, one small step at a time. Nearing it, she pulls out of his embrace to slip her shirt over her head. Henri does the same. He’s against her again, crushing her to his chest. She snakes her arms around him and presses her cheek to his
heart, relishing his smooth warmth. His swollen cock nudges her belly. She slips her arms free and lowers herself to her knees, tugging his pants down. The natural musk from his dark, curling hairs mingles with his perfumed scent. She sighs and looks up, licking her lips and reaching for his rigid shaft. His hands are on hers quickly. He pulls her up to her feet then lifts her by her waist, easily onto the bed. He pulls off her pants, kicks out of his own, and steps between her legs. Resting his hands on her thighs, he looks her over. She smiles and scoots closer to him. His hands slide up, his thumbs nestle in the crease where hip meet thigh. He gives a light squeeze and her core quivers. She can feel the heat from his cock so near her pulsing lips. With one hand he pushes his swollen head against her clit. A tiny eruption strikes and she breathes in quickly, shocked by her sensitivity. Every point of contact is blooming with pleasure. His cock against her clit, his hand kneading her hip, his legs against her thighs. Then his lips are on hers again. She’s lost, scooting closer, aching to have him.