"My heart explodes from his words. I twist my fingers tightly in his locks as he exhales one final grunt, flooding me with his viral seed. He sinks back on his haunches, pulling me with him. We stay entwined, savoring our releases. Reluctantly, I pull away and reach for a cloth to clean myself up a little. He stands and reattaches his koteka. After helping me stand, he gazes into my eyes, whispering words in my ear, and kissing my lips. My warrior! We rejoin the celebration having sated our lust for the time being.Kioko pulls me into the circle of dancing, our eyes savoring each other's body movements. There are no defined moves, just freestyle dancing. Arms and legs seem to have a life of their own. Although everyone moves differently, there is a rhythm to their movements. Being a former dancer, I quickly catch on. Still on the high from the fuck, my hips take the lead, popping to the beat of the drum, with my arms moving out to the side. Kioko's more of an athletic dancer, hopping. A perceptible groan sounded as the terry cloth blotter was removed and employed to pat dry her judiciously secreted breasts before venturing upward to sponging-up the droplets encircling her sun-baked neck. A defining silence descended as she employed a practiced behind-the-back towel-flick to transfer custody of the loose end of that ‘swimmer’s shammy’ over to her left hand in order to utilize a very sensual tug-o-war maneuver in order to clear her bronzed stern, drip by sexy drip, of excess water. She set her cherry-colored bottom into motion rocking side to side in a perverted version of the Pasodoble as she ever so slowly managed to dry her dorsal surface. Once all was dry this water pixy completed the second half of her modesty turn but only after pinching the corner of the towel between thumb and index finger and unfurling the towel to cover first her left then her right breast as she trapped the terry cloth fabric with the underside of her upper left arm before drawing the.
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