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Subject: I wanted to thank you Bill and share a bit with others.
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Author:
Meredeth
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Date Posted: 00:45:29 05/13/06 Sat
I had such a nice time when you took me home! You were the prefect gentleman. I just have to share! The orange juice, fruit and bagels in the morning were nice. Let's do it again soon!
"Whoa," Bill said. He was concentrating on my breasts, totally enamored of them. My breasts are medium, I'd say, B to C cup, depending on the mood they're in or the brand of bra. My nipples had perked to bright pink, hard pebbles in reaction to Bill's hot stare. I glanced down, surprised to see them, since I rarely thought about them when on my own. They were just a part of me, but Bill was obviously impressed. He placed his palms over each one reverently. His hands were warm and my nipples were so sensitive. I moaned and more juice leaked into my panties. He moved his thumbs to the tips of my nipples and circled lightly, creating intense pleasure that jetted from my chest to every nerve ending in my body. I closed my eyes and just don't know
felt. Wet warmth encircled one nipple. My eyes flew open and I looked down. Bill was sucking me. He had his smooth, sexy lips on my tit. I threaded my fingers through his soft hair and reveled in the feeling of lips and tongue on my breast. So good. He didn't neglect my other breast. That was next on the agenda and equally good. Meanwhile his hand unsnapped my jeans and worked the zipper down. Underneath I wore a slim, black thong. Don't ask me what possessed me to wear that tonight, since I usually wear thigh-high bikini underwear, the cotton serviceable variety, not the kind with satin and lace. I think the idea that I would actually see a man, any man, that evening, when I hadn't for a while, led to the selection of the thong, even though intellectually I had been sure Bill would never see it. Well, seems I was wrong about that, too. He worked his fingers under the coarse denim to touch the silk thong. He pushed against the fabric, which in turn rubbed against my clit, and I gasped, "Bill!" He leaned me back against the couch cushion, which was a bit itchy against my skin. We could have gone to my bedroom, but maybe he was afraid of breaking the moment by suggesting it. Would brain cells have prevailed if we'd paused to change to a more comfortable locale? Somehow I doubt it. Tequila and hormones make one wicked love potion, not to mention several years of denied lust. Bill's fingers circled my clit through the soaking fabric, then pinched my love knob. I was aching to come already. When his fingers pushed the fabric aside to plunge into my wet hole, I couldn't stop the sounds coming from my throat. You could call them moans, but they were more varied than that. Sometimes it sounded like purring, sometimes growling. Even occasional swear words popped past my lips as index finger found and massaged my G-spot. But he stopped the magical movements of his fingers before I came. Ugh. He pulled them out of me. I think I slugged him on the shoulder at that point, but he ignored me. He concentrated on the more pressing business of working my jeans down and off my legs, followed by the thong. Shockingly cool air touched my skin raising goose-bumps. Bill's pants and briefs dropped to the floor next, and I found myself staring at a huge, engorged dick. Wow! I would never have guessed that Bill was so well endowed! I shant tell you more, Suffice to say, we were both very sore and fatigued for the next week!
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