9/5/14

I shake off the unwelcome thought.

He stops and reaches for a washcloth as I pant against him, wanting... needing. My hands rest on his firm, muscular thighs. Squirting more soap on to the washcloth, he leans down and washes between my legs. I hold my breath. His fingers skillfully stimulating me through the cloth, it's heavenly, and my hips start moving at their own rhythm, pushing against his hand. As the sensations take over, I tilt my head back, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my mouth slack, and I groan. The pressure is building slowly, inexorably inside me ... oh my.

 He squeezes my knee again, and then returns his hand to the steering wheel as he puts his foot down on the gas. I'm pressed into the back of my seat. Boy this car can move.

What are you doing to me?" His eyes burn, their intensity takes my breath away."He's just so... Everything. And when we... oh... really good." She can hardly string a sentence together she's got it so bad.
"I think you're trying to tell me that you like him."
























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