"Touch me," she repeated.I touched her arm."No," she said. "Not there."I touched her face.She smiled. "That's nice, but that's also not where I meant.... I let my hand slide down across her cheek, softly, down her neck, graze a nipple, light as a feather, and whisper over her belly. Her skin turned to gooseflesh. The peach fuzz on her belly bristled, glittering gold in the soft light.Gingerly, I let my fingers venture into her forbidden triangle. Without pressing down, I gently caressed her. "It could be worse," he'd said. "Imagine if she got married to someone else with a hyphenated name? I mean, how'd you like to have to deal with, oh, Langenderfer-McMahon-Caserowski-Clark?"For that matter, if you were going to put the kid into alphabetical order for some reason or another, like in a grade book, where did you put her? Under "L", or "M", or maybe "Mc?" If you chose the last, did the "Mc" go ahead of or after the "M"s?She'd had Tiffany in the classroom for seven months now, and. I got ready to go to his, I put on a very short skirt, intending to put on boots and thick tights, but I got distracted by my fishnet hold ups in the draw. I slid them onto my legs and spread them in front of the mirror, I wanted more. I thought of where I was going, and decided then that I wanted to conclude this sexual tension – but on my terms. I left the fishnet stockings on, and teamed them with heels, it with a thong and matching bra. I decided against wearing a top. I have a nice warm. I pull her close to me and embrace her with fiery abandon. I savor the taste of her sweet, full lips as she draws my tongue into her mouth and gently sucks the tip. She runs her fingers over the scars on my face, tracing each one in silent reverence. She caresses each scar sliding her hands down over my chest and back to my thighs. There she kisses each puckered mark of long ago wars sending electric waves of ecstasy up my spine. I shiver with anticipation and she gives me that playful evil.
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