I admit, I probably stared at Layla a little more, especially when the straps of her dress would slide off, and she wasn't exactly quick to pull them ...ack up. Plus, it was obvious she was not wearing a bra of any kind (did I mention she was a hippie chick?) She offered to take me to dinner wherever I wanted as a thank-you, and I agreed. But since we'd worked all day (and her apartment's a/c was not working), we were both sweaty. I told her I needed to shower, so I began to head home. She. The heavy dew of perspiration, labouring; I trembled with lust.Tilting her head, she took pity on me, “Let me do this for you.”I followed her instructions, propped up on locked arms behind my body, my legs straight. She straddled my lap, pressed my head to her breasts, and rode me. Grinding with a smearing action or a determined bounce from her haunches, she clattered into me hard.“I can do it too…” and murmured at my kiss in response.“Oh, God…”“Déesse,” she purred with a breathless. More

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