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by DeDeDe Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Erotica · #1782285
You live in a world filled with sex, luckly all and every single women is to die for sexy.
This choice: You feel her hand beneath the table caress your thigh, "But I have needs".  •  Go Back...
Chapter #6

You feel her hand beneath the table.

    by: Mr. George Author IconMail Icon
Her legs wide, she caresses yours as a smirk plays on her gorgeous features. She's not merely spectacularly endowed. Her relief clear as her enormous bust rests on the table. "My needs are more intense now... Animalistic even." she blushingly confesses with a playful smile promising you'll enjoy satisfying her itch.

Beneath the table, her hand drifts up your inner thigh. Leaning close she murmurs in a sultry purr, "A woman can be curious... they are fascinating." she confesses, a worryingly long tongue darting out to moisten her lips, only fires your imagination.

Her lashes bat, as she senses you tense up. "That's the response I want." she cooed, her free hand darting out to snake around your neck pulling you into a startled kiss.

The kiss lingers, as her grip is intense, her tongue eager darts provocatively and teasingly. Her eyes flash revealing the lust bubbling beneath the surface. Victory in them.

https://64.media.tumblr.com/a3dd89301a81...

She only releases you, once she overcome her passionate impulse. "Sorry." She blushed allowing you to settle back into the seat. Her spread legs still keeping you from bolting. She shakes her head, as what she's done comes back to her. You take in those seductive rainbow lips... They weren't always that vibrant... were they? You ask yourself.

"Just the last vestiges of the virus flaring up as my antibodies hold it in place." she can't meet your gaze as she talks to the table.

"Besides, I'm probably not infectious any longer... and men can't... can't experience this..." A hint of her humiliation and frustration leaking through as she talks. She snatches her hand back from your thigh, as if mortified by her loss of control.

Her hands rising to shield her tell-tale nips, being careful not to accidentally touch them and set herself off once again.
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