Clyde and you at home. But you are doing your yoga or pilates movements
WHEEEEW SALLY IS IT WARM IN HERE? You like to go through your Pilates floor exercises and do some stretching in the early morning quiet before Clyde gets up, but somethin’ woke him up today. Anon, please accept these thots:
“Christ almighty darlin’, are you tryin’ ta kill a man?” Clyde walks into the living room, bleary-eyed and hair mussed from sleep. Your feet are spread in a wide stance and firmly planted on your foam mat, your torso hanging down between your legs... and it’s clear that your cute ass up in the air is the first thing Clyde’s seen of ya this mornin’.
He bumbles over—your sweet, big bear of a man—and wraps his hand around your waist, pressing his morning wood up against your bottom and groaning happily. You giggle and wiggle your hips against him, feeling the outline of his thick cock through your thin, stretchy leggings.
“Well I reckon this is the reason you can getch’ya legs up on my shoulders, ain’t it?” he asks, pressing into you harder, and you can practically hear his smile. “It might be,” you chime back, feeling yourself start to throb against him. Somethin’ tells ya you won’t be getting through the rest of your stretches today.
“Oh, darlin’... You’ve got a little wet spot on ya,” Clyde moans, dropping to his knees behind you. He presses his nose and lips against your clothed heat, soaked through with slick for him, and he breathes in deep, exhaling with a hum. He starts to peel down your tights, tugging the fabric down over your ass. “Can I take care of that for ya?”
