IA - Hi

“Hi,” you say.

Riley’s eyes open. Then they get wide.

“Hi,” she says, looking stricken. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you ask, approaching her chair.

“You got all… pretty, and I’m…” She sadly looks down at herself. She’s like a wilted flower. You smile. She tries to stand up, no doubt intending to kiss you, but you push her back into the chair and nestle in her lap, throwing your legs over the arm.

“Oh. OK,” she says, putting her arms around you.

After a long kiss, she puts her face against your neck and sighs.

“I’m so tired,” she whimpers.

“I know.”

“Did you watch it?” she asks.

“Yes,” you reply.

“Was it OK?”

“Of course.”

She sighs again. “Was your trip good?”

“Yes,” you say, stroking her head. She leans against your chest.

“I missed you,” she says, her voice muffled.

You missed her too. She is so funny! She is cutest when she’s bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning on the football pitch, but she’s cute like this too. She rubs your thigh absently with her hand, her eyes on your chest.

“Very nice lingerie,” she says with a weak little smile.

You hold her face in your hands and lean in to plant a quick kiss on her lips.

“Did you see when Adella’s shoe broke?” she asks.

“Yes,” you say.

“I don’t think she’s ever worn heels in her life,” Riley says. “I never thought there would be someone worse at heels than me.”

“OK, baby.”

“Sorry, you don’t care about that.” She squeezes you. “I’m a horrible girlfriend.”

You kiss her forehead several times and pat her head. “OK.”

She laughs, looking up at you. Then she bites her lip, and you feel it pressing against your bottom. Riley giggles.

“I can’t stay tired around you,” she says.

Riley is a bit predictable at the best of times, but sitting in her lap never fails to perk her up. So your nice bra and panties are soon forgotten on the floor. Your hands, heels, and toes rub the satin sheets on the bed as your body twists and your hips lift off the mattress. Breathing hard, you look down at Riley between your legs, hungrily using her mouth. Your body keeps scooting back on the bed, and she crawls on, the front of her dress pushed up and her dripping erection poking out of her panties, twitching as she keeps her lips on your pussy.

You hear your moans get louder and more **** as you lie back and stare at the ceiling as the pleasure floods your body. Your hands find Riley’s head and run through her hair, pulling her hair tie loose. Her fingers slide around your thighs to your bottom, pulling you toward her.

The ceiling’s starting to look blurry, and you’re running out of breath. She’s so good at this…

Some of your family voiced some misgivings about you being in a relationship with an American girl when you were home, but it doesn’t seem so bad.

~ Route End ~