It was late on a Friday afternoon when I walked into Jessica's house.It's a small but comfortably furnished cottage in a part of town thatthat's becom... fully gentrified in the last few years. Jessica had theforethought to buy there even before it become fashionable.As I walked through the front door, I could only see the top of her headas she sat on the carpet just in front of the white, overstuffed sofa.She was streaming soft-rock music throughout the house. I could see thehalf-drunken. Unlike the men who showed off their cocks like muscles in defiance, the women used other ways to attract lovers. Sophia saw herself in the place of the dark haired girl, at the top of the bed, just as she was in the picture, another woman using her tongue in ways she imagined with her fingers. Her cheek would be soft if it brushed up against her thigh, her skin silken and fragrant, her kiss yielding, her tongue pressing along the stretch of her slit then pushing up on her clit. Maybe there'd be. More

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