Erica's second surprise

When Michael returned he found Erica wearing a short red dress so tight it looked painted on, and strapped heels that seemed barely there. She pirouetted before him, biting her lower lip, her eyes flirting.

"It's my crack whore dress and fuck me shoes," she said. He stepped towards her but she stopped him with a gesture.

"Not yet." She gestured to where some pillows were arranged on the floor and a video camera sat on a small tripod. "I want to see us," she said, her breasts rising with her breathing. She leaned over the camera and touched a button then stood near the pillows, her back to him, giving him a smoldering glance over her shoulder.

"Now, Michael. Let's perform."

He came to her, kissing her neck and bare shoulders. She moaned, undulating against him as he slid his hands down her body. He knelt, pushing her dress up, kissing the round firmness of her ass, licking her, rolling her white panties down her thighs.

She crouched, unzipping him, and he tugged her dress down beneath her breasts, seeing her nipples hard and erect. Squatting, her panties around her knees, she freed his cock. Licking it, she stared up into his face, then sucked it into her as her hands caressed his balls.

Suddenly she stopped and pulled away. "Don't move," she ordered throatily, freeing the camera from the tripod and handing it to him. "I want you to shoot me sucking you."

He pointed the camera at her and she reached for his shaft, tasting it, her eyes flirting with the camera. Then suddenly devouring his cock, eyes closed, taking half it's length into her mouth, her jaws moving trying to get more. Withdrawing, her eyes opened, glittering at the camera. She lingered at the tip, her head tilted, looking up at him.

"Don't you dare come," she said "We have lot's more to do." She took the camera away and replaced it on the tripod, then pushed him down onto the pillows while stripping off her panties. She straddled him, her dress bunched around her waist, then lowered herself onto his cock.

"God, I don't know if I can control myself," she groaned as her ass plunged and rotated. Michael thrust upwards, probing her. She looked back over her shoulder at the camera as he held her ass and pumped himself into her.

"Wait," she said, withdrawing from him and spinning to straddle him again so she faced the camera, her sweet round ass towards him. Again she impaled herself, this time with a cry of orgasm as she slid onto him, holding his thighs and driving herself deeply onto his cock. Michael struggled for control as her first spasms quietened. She leaned backwards, opening herself to the camera, spreading her lips as she gazed down at his cock buried in her.

Again she pulled away, panting this time, her eyes wild and wide. More than anything Michael wanted drag her down and finish them both, but she pushed her dress to the floor, kicking it away. He tore off his pants and tossed them aside. She lay down on the pillows, her back to him, looking up at him with delectable lust.

"From behind now. Open me so the camera sees it," she whispered. He lay behind her, lifting her thigh high to expose her sex, then buried his eager cock in her. She came again, her cries and heat and spasms nearly bursting him. Calming, she pulled away again, panting and grinning.

"Last time, I promise," she chuckled throatily. "This direction is tough work." She adjusted the camera slightly, then lay on her back beside him. "Finish us, Michael. Any way you want. But make sure the camera sees it."

He knelt between her thighs, holding his throbbing cock, then seized her ankles and spread her legs wide. He leaned forward, pushing his cock into her as she rolled her head back towards the camera, eyes closed, mouth open. He thrust into her, his calves and thighs straining as though he was running, once, twice and again and then they were over the edge, exploding, crying wordless joy to each other.