Looking up at me he winks and runs his tongue up the front of her panties, right along her slit. She puts her hands on his head, running her fingers t...rough his hair, locking them in. She moans louder, as do I. I cover my mouth and back up, afraid that she may have heard me. But he shakes his head at me, signaling it was ok to continue to watch. As I move back into position I realize her eyes haven't opened yet. She is truly enjoying what he is doing to her, completely oblivious to the fact. Her hand reached up and fiddled with her hair. God, she hoped she looked alright. She knew she was pretty but would she be able to keep his interest? Opening her purse she withdrew a small photo. In it a well built man leaned against a fence. His worn shirt was pulled tight over a nicely muscled chest and his jeans fit him like a second skin. He had a dark brown cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes, but she knew from some of the other photos he had sent that they were a deep slate blue. Out of. Quivering with shame Miranda reachedunder her skirt and lowered her underwear, and Jennifer immediatelyplaced a hand smoothly on the woman's knee and moved up the legs andunder her skirt, softly without pressure, making it a caress of promise.Recriminations began to burn inside the journalist. What was the girlthinking of? Miranda Delahaye wasn't a lesbian. On the point ofindignantly pushing the other girl away she hesitated. There wassomething about those lean hands... she was afraid of those. We spent the next hour talking about sex - what she liked and what I liked. What I wanted her to do, and what she could expect in return."Hmmmm ... OK. I'm happy with all that" Carly responded, almost taking over the interview. Then she added "Maybe we should do a practical assessment of our sexual compatibility"."Now?" I gasped."Yep ... why not?" she quipped with a smile and a giggle.And that was how Carly and I came to be naked on this huge bed in my apartment. Our clothes were neatly piled.
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