He stroked the inner walls with his fingertips, sliding in and out at a slow pace. I thought I heard a faint moan come from deep within his throat, bu... couldn’t be sure. He withdrew his fingers and his lips kissing the petals of my sex replaced it. His tongue teased the crease of them before dipping inside to play with my clitoris. It swirled back and forth, up and down giving such pleasure with his hot tongue it was almost unbearable. I could feel his heavy breath on my cunt. Each stroke of. A quick glance at his watch confirmed the time: two-fifty in the afternoon. He focused on the biography in front of him, committing the details to memory. Her name was Frida Nordstrom. A good Norse name, he thought. Her picture was too small to discern much about her, physically. The personal information section only listed her height and weight as average. Dating had never been his strong suit. For all the experience he had acquired, he still felt awkward when meeting new people. The. More

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