She moaned in appreciation. "Can I hate you?" she asked in a shaky voice. I chuckled, but continued to rub and tease. "I love clean men," she said. "I...love the feel of smooth tight skin and perky man nipples. I love the feel of a man's smooth cheeks on my thighs while he licks me." I had finished that arm, so I eased around to the other side of the table. She raised her other arm into position before I got there, and I oiled up and reached across her body to work that arm. She brought her. My stiff tongue explored like Ponce de Leon, lapping high and low, my ample saliva adding to her messy state. With the alcohol providing phony courage, my fingertip even massaged her vulnerable but exposed rosebud (with apologies to Orson Welles). She didn't say stop so I didn't.Her bare foot slid between my legs and began moving as if she had restless leg syndrome. I was gushing through the lace onto her skin. We were now wearing each other as we established that beautiful rhythm on our first. More

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