My cock is straining and pulsing and I feel lightheaded, lost in lust for her. The socks are neatly rolled, undoubtedly fresh out of the laundry, and ...hen I bring the crotch of the lace panties to my nose, I can smell the perfume of laundry detergent. The soft cotton of the crotch where her pussy lips rub is white and clean, still unused. Horny, I have an urge to masturbate. Holding her panties in my left hand, I stroke my cock with her panties, rubbing the head with the cotton crotch, right. Although highly agitated she remained in the position I had put her in, her eyes covered by the hem of her dress. She did squirm a little. Suddenly, I don't know why, I wavered. I was a little fourteen year old kid. But that vanished like a cloud and Mike returned, completely devoid of even a hint of an idea about what to do next. I had to be Mike. I had to be Mike. It was a war going on within me, a war for my cock. Mike's was the harder cock, Bob's the one that would have sought the pussy.. More

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