undercover

At first we meet, playful and waiting, waiting for answers or mood obsticles.Nothing, so we climb to higher levels. Now we kiss harder, fumbling teenage hands and outbreaks of laughter. When words and fingers combine just right, we begin to play that game you play at night. A rush of blood,tingling and sexy, a stroke, a tickle, a lick a squeeze.Pretty pressure, desires fulfilled but wanting more. And more. The opposition combining into one, into me. Dreams and bad thoughts, thrusting, crashing. Light brushes upgraded to hot gushes, penetrating and pain. These feelings I get, even to hide, I want more, more pain I find.I love the boy and pleasures are plus. How can I feel this good from squirming with the boy under the duvet?