"When did you start writing poetry?" I asked."Since..." Devi's head disappeared under the blanket, lifting it up and down. "Oh god." I put my finger to my lips and pointed forward. He nodded. "Since I was 12. You know I play piano." I nodded and realized when he'd been with me how good he'd gotten, and he played jazz. "Well, I started writing songs. I never ... Oh fuck ... I was shy about them." Even with me?" I asked while my fingers plunged in and out of Bess and her hand tugged at my cock."Especially with you," he said and arched up and exploded into Devi's mouth. She moaned, her fingers strumming her clit and soon made a quiet squeak of orgasm."How come?" I asked. When he replied I kissed Bess passionately, then removed her hand. I wanted to make love to her more than anything I ever wanted, but proximity to my son and the spying driver made it impossible. However I kept shoving my fingers inside her. The only intimacy available, I took what I got."You know a lot about jazz and. Her beautiful breasts were gracefully moving in unison with her massaging as she moved back and forth and eventually around to my side. Still lying face down, I felt this strange but almost sensual sensation move across my shoulders and gradually down the small of my back over my butt, down the crack and even onto his head again. This was mind-blowing. It moved down my thighs, dwelled on the backs of my knees, over my calves and even into the soles of my feet. My curiosity got the better of me and I enquired what was happening.She calmly whispered, “I’m giving you a nipple massage.”This was too much. Unbelievable and unrepeatable, as no one would believe me – nor would I. I gasped with pleasure. A nipple massage--what next? And again, all unexpected. Awesome, awesome, awesome! My cock shot up rock-hard for the umpteenth time. Could it take anymore? Because I couldn’t. I was speechless, so just groaned my approval.She smiled and told me to roll over.Well, my entire body was on full.
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