Right!

“Fuck yeah,” I agree enthusiastically. I spin Julie around and pull her to me. I reach around her and cup a tit in each hand. I lift up, feeling their silken skin and soft weight. With the heels of my hands at the bases of her breasts, I can just brush their growing dusty-pink points. When I do, she moans softly. She grinds her ass against me.

“That doesn’t feel so nice with your jeans on,” Julie says firmly. She reaches behind her back and deftly opens up my pants. She pushes them down. She grinds her ass against my dick. I squeeze her big mounds and roll them in my grip. I pull and twist her nipples, then fondle and caress her tits. She moans her encouragement. I begin to smell the tangy, spicy scent of her arousal. I reach down into her slit; she’s wet. I stroke her inner lips and rub a nipple against a palm. I tease her joystick with the tip of one finger, and she mewls.

Julie tries to twist away from me, but I hold her firmly. I knead her big tit and rub her pearl. “Let me go,” she moans. “My husband will be home soon and I want to taste your cock. I want to feel your big shaft in my throat—I can tell you’re bigger than he is. There isn’t time for you to fuck me, but there’s time for you to cum in my mouth. I want to taste your cum.”

Ordinarily I’d be on that like white on rice, but I’ve cum enough times today that I don’t know how much more I have left. She’s probably expecting me to flood her mouth with my cream; if I go off like a popgun, it’s going to leave a bad impression. That will hurt my chances of fucking her later. How many of these tenants am I going to end up fucking? I ask myself in amazement. Myself has no answer.