Her hands were unrelenting, unceasing until they had pulled the dress from my body. I have no idea if she had ripped it off, or merely willed it off, as soon it was in a pile next to her own discarded robe. With that obstacle removed, she concentrated her efforts on my panties, easily pulling my clit free from the silky confines, all seven inches of it now resting hard against my smooth mound.She lowered her hips as she straddled me, resting my clit along the folds of her pussy, taking care not to penetrate herself. With her like that, I could feel the heat radiating from her thighs, warming my clit. Then her hips shifted, moving forward, causing my clit to slide backwards. I could feel the head of my clit rubbing sensuously at the entrance to her womanhood. She shifted her hips again, this time my clit sliding up nearly the entire length of her pussy, become slick with her juice, as her excited clit was dragged down the length of my shaft. She moaned at the sensation, but. For the first time. His clothes were very tight fitting; you could almost see the muscles rippling under the material of his shirt, and those pants he was wearing. They were jeans, but they looked like they'd been painted on him.I don't know why I kept watching him work, but I do remember that I noticed a big lump along one leg of his pants. In a sitting position it was very noticeable. It was obvious that he wasn't aroused, but that meat-log trapped under the denim of his pants was bigger than any man I'd ever seem even in the middle of sexual intercourse. It was amazing.Just then Jarrod, my husband hailed me and we were off to the airport.I'd like to say that, that was the end of it. It would be so much less complicated if I'd just let things be, but that beautiful black body with that huge meat-log kept running through my mind. I just couldn't get Otis out of my thoughts.It's embarrassing to admit it, but being on my own that night (with my husband on his business trip) I.
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