"A little," Joan admitted. She put down the blade and followed him.As they passed another desk, Marc spotted one of his 3D artists manipulating Flame ...ingman's crotch. "Don't flatten it!" Marc exclaimed."I wasn't. That was just for . . ." they passed a few technical phrases back and forth. It all went over Joan's head."All right," Marc patted the artist on the shoulder and proceeded to a lounge with a buffet table and a huge banner of a man with brown hair in a billowing trench coat brandishing. I finished peeling her suit off, as the fabric pulled over her mons. The thick bush of hair was my prize, and I buried my face into her lovely bush. The mix of chlorine and pussy was strangely sensual, probably because it reminded me of our genital contact in the water.As we were now nude, is was a quick move to the bed sheets. We were no longer subtle in our movements. It was as though we became two different people. Nothing slow, no finese - we were overwhelmed with unbridled passion. Both. More

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