No gtip just gentle strokes around your bottom to your inner thighs and back. Back and forth, back and forth. ‘Don’t be scared. Just relax’. You...hear muffled by the blankness that the relaxing massage left in your absolutely eased mind. One kiss on your inner thigh before you stiffen for just a moment as his tongue, even warmer than his hands, makes gentle contact with the tingly spot between your legs. His tongue draws firm cirles around your clitoris. Always the same pressure only varying in. ’ ‘What were you thinking about?’ ‘I –‘ Thrown by the note of concern in his voice, I was relieved when a much safer topic dropped into my mind. ‘Work,’ I groaned softly. He echoed my groan. ‘Phone in sick.’ ‘I can’t.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘I’m not sick. It would be a lie.’ He laughed. ‘Not really. Tell your boss you haven’t slept. That you’re exhausted.’ ‘I am.’ I groaned again, closing my eyes. ‘But it’s completely self-inflicted.’ ‘So?’ He was still laughing. ‘It’s a white lie.’ ‘It’s still a lie. I. More

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