My Valentine

I had a weakness for beautiful black girls. When Tyra Lex came into the picture, I knew I was getting the kind of Valentine’s gift that lingers long after the night ends. Her deep brown skin caught the light, smooth and warm, a perfect match for the soft curves beneath my own pale skin. Blonde hair spilled over my shoulders, a striking contrast as I reached for her. We kissed slow at first, then deeper, wetter, our tongues sliding together. She cupped my tits in both hands and squeezed, heavy and full, her thumbs circling my nipples until they stood tight and needy. I arched into her touch, spread my legs wider. Her fingers found me slick and hot, one sliding in while her mouth closed over a nipple, sucking hard. I gasped, rolled my hips, chased every stroke. Tyra moved lower, kissed down my belly, and pressed her mouth between my thighs. She licked me open, tongue flicking fast then slow, tasting everything I had to give. I gripped the sheets, hips bucking, blonde hair sticking to my damp skin while she worked me closer and closer. She looked up, eyes dark with hunger, and I pulled her back up so we could press our bodies together. Her thigh slid between mine, wet skin on wet skin, and we rocked until the tension snapped and we came hard against each other, mouths locked, breath ragged. Every touch felt like a gift unwrapped twice.