His breathing quickens, as do his fingers in my cunt. He pulls out without warning and starts to caress my swollen clit. 'Oh this feels so good!' I sc...eam in my mind. He suddenly stops fingering me. I look to him desperate for him to finish what he started. He just smiles, seeing my wanting, enjoying my distress of him stopping. He picks me up, as if I weigh nothing, places me on the kitchen table and whips my soaked panties off. His tongue teases my inner thighs, before making his way up to. I'll mix some in with Sandalwood and Cypress. Very potent stuff." How long have you been doing this?" Tracy asked with interest, fishing a menthol cigarette from a fresh pack." About fifteen years." Keith replied, pushing an ashtray across the table towards her.She nodded and said; "I hope you don't mind me saying, but you don't look... well, the type."Keith burst out laughing and struck a pose; one hand on hip, the other hanging loosely at the end of his wrist. "Oh me, oh my. I'm such a butch. When I was half way down to her thighs the realisation hit me that she was not wearing any underwear. Realising that I had reached the limit of my arm’s reach, she wiggled and shook the shorts the rest of the way off. The wiggling had brought about the clichéd scenario: my cock sprung to life and slipped out of the opening of my boxers. Trying to ignore the predicament I was in as much as possible, we pulled and tugged and got the sleeping bag closed. The bag was almost too small for the two. Michael helped her onto the table, watched her ass as she slid around, his cock hard already. She sat demurely; bit her lower lip, her thighs clamped tightly together. She looked so beautiful, her long blond hair hanging to the side, slightly tussled, her breasts rose and fell, the nipples hard from the chill in the air, Dr. Michael always made sure that it was on the cold side. The cold took their minds off the things being done to their bodies, always looking for ways to stay warm. Joanna’s.
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