“Where?” he asked, then hurried to repeat, “Where?” as if he were afraid that I had gone away or wouldn’t answer him.“Your thighs,” I to...d him. “The insides of your thighs.”He warbled a moan.“The crease of your hips.”“Ah, fuck,” he hushed out and I heard the rustle of the blanket and sheets as his deliciously ticklish body jerked.“The… the base of your cock.”“Not the tip,” he almost whined, and I had to bite back a wicked smile. Fuck, this was so wrong.“No, not the tip,” I confirmed. “Not yet.. It was a Friday evening when the self-invited guest showed up, bearing no flowers or wine or anything that would reveal any manners at all. He was welcomed, or at least he got that impression, by the slender woman with long dark hair and a magnificent bosom with much cleavage on display in the lowcut blouse that she wore.Carrying on a conversation, she kept Manuel well supplied with his favorite beer, bending over to give luscious views of her barely covered mammaries as she served it. She. More

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