They touch her. Gentle hands – probing fingers. Her body arches and twists under the slow heat building in captured limbs. Yet she remains locked in...icy splendor upon a small slab of polished stone. She can hear them, you know… the pull of air, the soft sigh of pleasure at a slick bit of flesh, a tucked treasure responding beneath a gentle fingertip. Consciousness growing as the gentleness tightens, the rush of fear, the awareness of flesh no longer stroked like the back of a purring kitten.. Then with a simple hop she was back up on my lap and my burning questions as to whether she was wearing panties ended as I could feel her small moist pussy lips grinding up and down on my shaft.Michelle’s moans were soft as a whisper as she was kissing my neck. “Come on untie my hands, please, I need to feel all of you.”“Not a chance in hell.” Her pussy was grinding nice and hard on top of me. Her pussy lips began to spread open and her juices began to coat my shaft. Her warm pussy juices. More

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