A side of sausage

You hand over the coffee to Amy, who moves the mugs to the table. You get out some cutlery and the butter, and collect the toast. Amy sighs, and continues playing with herself as you approach the table. You notice that her eyes drop to watch your cock waggle as you approach.

"Would you like me to butter your toast?" you ask her.

"Do you have to ask?" Amy says, wiggling her bottom slightly, giggling.

"Okay, just a second," you say to her. You set down the butter and knives, and put a piece of toast on each plate.

"Here, I'll sit first," you say to her, approaching a chair. "Then you can sit and take me inside you," you elaborate.

Amy nods. "Sure," she says, watching you sit down. She then approaches the chair, straddles your legs, and sits down slowly, guiding your cock to her by-now wet pussy. She slides down with little effort.

"Hard again so quickly," she says. "You're enjoying yourself." You smile, just enjoying the sensation of her soft, warm sex.

"Do you mind if I start?" she asks, after a moment. "It's nice of you to butter me up, but I think I should butter my actual toast myself." She busies herself with her knife and the toast.

You can't help yourself. "Amy, I'm enjoying this a lot. How do you feel?"

Amy looks over her shoulder at you with a rueful smile. "To be honest, a little hung-over. Some comfort food and coffee is exactly what I need. This bit of breakfast nookie isn't going amiss either," she says, squeezing you from inside.

You moan, and Amy chuckles softly. "It'll work easier if you let me eat, and then take your turn after. Trust me," she says. She expertly raises her bottom and lets it sink down again, slowly fucking you as she eats her eggs and toast. She moans as she slurps at her coffee, and squeezes you inside of her.

Because you blew your load in her mouth not that long ago, it takes a while longer for your climax to approach. She starts pumping you a bit more quickly as you begin to pant, and then plunges down suddenly onto your lap. With a loud moan, you pump your seed into her hot, moist womanhood. She pants as you jet your semen inside of her, and she moans softly.

Amy slowly wiggles as she looks at you over her shoulder. "I've figured out what's odd about today," she says, simply. "This isn't a dream, is it John?"

It seems pointless to deny it. "No, it isn't."

Amy smirks softly. "I didn't really think so. It's just that this," she says, gesturing at your coupled bodies, "always feels so dream-like: nice, but like it isn't really happening." She shifts slightly, and finishes off her coffee.

She looks again to you. "Could you do me a favour, John?"