Thinking of good old days

Brittany came to see me after all these years. She flew in from Russia, and the second our eyes locked we remembered every hour we used to spend naked and desperate for each other. We talked about those old nights, but the words melted into sighs, then into long, slow kisses. Our thighs slid together until the heat between us grew slick. I tasted her first, tongue parting her swollen lips, lapping at the wetness that coated her. She tasted just as sweet as I remembered. Then her mouth was between my legs, sucking, licking, pushing me closer. I reached for the drawer, spread my toys on the bed. Thick silicone slid into her, curved glass followed, then my favorite rabbit pressed against her clit while my fingers pumped inside. Every toy I owned left its mark on her—on me—until we were both shaking, clutching, dripping onto the sheets. The old days were back. We never wanted them to end.