MatureEbonyPru38F

You know that point during a blow-job, when the giver is settled down and focused on the art of transporting the receiver to the heights of pleasure; and the receiver’s whole body language confirms that all concerned are singing from the same hymn sheet?

Well, that’s where I and a punter were yesterday, when a shrill sound broke our dreamy reverie. My first thought was that it was my phone and I’d forgotten to turn it off, as I always do at the beginning of a session.

But it was the smoke alarm. I looked up in disbelief. I couldn’t smell any smoke. And just because one can’t smell the smoke doesn’t mean there is no fire. And while I know I’m hot, surely not hot enough to trigger a smoke alarm!

The punter and I leapt out of bed naked, almost smacking into each other in the haste of trying to work out what to do next. I opened the bedroom door a peep, all was quiet. But a heavy smell of burning toast (my flat mate’s) hung heavy in the atmosphere. Just as I was taking that in, the noise stopped.

Relieved that it wasn’t an apartment wide fire alarm requiring us to evacuate the building, the punter and I leapt back into bed.

He was still very hard.

xxx

Pru