She could feel her wetness on her panties. Her vulva was tumescent, her clit turgid. She envisioned the ridge of her hooded clit protruding from her l...bia, as she knew it was, and she envisioned the tip of her clit protruding from its hood, begging to be touched, rubbed, squeezed, and even abused. Her clit was so sensitive she knew it it would be torture to be rough with it, but sometimes she needed to punish her clit in the worst way to get off in the best.Really, that was just in her. She would come back from work and tell me about her male work colleagues stealing looks at her cleavage or waiting for her to walk up or down the workshop staircase (open-styled with no panels in between the steps) to ogle her legs and underwear.We would spend hours in bed making love and re-calling those moments.After sometime Mei Ling would mention about Alex, the ex-boyfriend, with whom she had a final fling before our wedding. The recollection would make her extremely horny and gave us the. More

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