’ The summer breeze drifted over us as he leaned over towards me. His hands glided over to the zipper of my pant suit. His strong hands easily undid the button. I scooched my butt up as he pulled my pants down in one fluid motion. My long, pale legs basked in the midday sun. He leaned down to kiss my thigh, tossing my pants behind him as an afterthought. His lips were rough against my smooth legs. Small tendrils of electricity shot up my leg. His lounge chair creaked as he got up and stood at the end of mine. I watched him slowly unbutton his shirt. His lean, muscular body peaked through the thin fabric as it slowly fell off of his shoulders. I bit my finger. My eyes ran down his body, noticing the outline of his cock through his thin khaki shorts. He got on his knees at my feet. He lifted my legs up and draped them over his back. The chair creaked as he put his weight on the end of it. He kissed my inner thigh as he slowly made his way towards me. At each touch it was getting harder. The touch of her bare foot between my knees made me tremble with a need to enter a female entryway regardless of age or exterior appearance. Several times with my mother or Sashimi in the room she would stroke my long shaft with her experienced fingers under the table covering pretending to be interested in the conversation of the other two women and mockingly ignoring my presence. My seeds often wet the floor mat under the table because she was so skilled in her milking process. However, there came a point when we both knew that enjoyable exercise was not enough and I crept into her compartment with her husband snoring to pin her to the mat with my ardent cock meeting little or no resistance. She would give me little sweets from her pockets, when the others were not looking and I knew she had an attachment for me or at least for my obviously ready for action male equipment. I saw my sister watching her giving me a treat one afternoon with a questioning look on her face but I ignored.
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