Yet, I felt compelled to ask the same question, “Where’re your clothes?”The brunette looked me over, stumbling in the process. Her ample cleavag... jiggled within her bra and I had to swallow to wet my dry throat. She looked up and smiled at me, her eyes sparkling. She ran her small hands over her body and said, “Don’t you like what you see?”I wasn’t frozen this time. My emotions weren’t a storm of conflicts. I was simply relieved to know that Francine was okay.Her eyes dropped, she licked her. But she wasn’t giggling today. She was quiet, immediately getting up and going to clean herself in the bathroom. No tasting my cum on her finger or asking me to lick it off her. She was disinterested, despondent even. I was still stretched out in the bed when she got out of the shower. She had always admired my 6ft 2 muscular frame. Not so much my five inches which had now shrivelled down to one. She had told me she’d like me to shave it, so it would appear bigger, but I feared the reaction of. More

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