The fact that my cock was exposed, sticking up from my pants, inches from Charlotte's face. That mattered. "Uh, Charlotte?"She prattled on. "And what'... worse, I have myself to blame. Lenny would still be here if I hadn't insisted-" She was crying while she massaged my erection. With each sob, she tugged at it, leaning ever closer.No woman had ever held my penis while crying. I tried hard not to take it personal. Her manipulation kept my psyche from making it deflate. Why did she think she was. And Ella, 18, but she looks and acts so much younger. Pampered and spoiled rotten her whole life, she has always gotten away with staying innocent and girly. So baby-faced, her body so small. Dusky almond skin, but paler where she wears a one-piece swimsuit all the time, such erotic tan lines. Long, silky black hair, wet and shiny from her bath. Her bold, dark eyebrows always tell what she’s feeling, frowning or surprised or confused. Right now terrified. Pretty hazel eyes stare back at me,. More

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