She knelt in front of me to loop the tape back around to measure my hips, and her face was just inches from my crotch. I knew she could see my bare pu...sy lips through the flimsy fabric of my panties. I wondered if she could smell my growing arousal. She stood and made a note of my measurements on a little pad, then pulled a box from a shelf. She pulled out the bustier, handed it to me, then stepped up behind me. I carefully placed the cups over my breasts, and she reached around me to take hold. All I know is that when I got off work yesterday, I stopped to the store for my usual bottle of merlot. Fifteen minutes later, I was at home bent over my sofa with a fit-for-my-pussy dick inside of me. I’m almost certain that my neighbors heard my moans and demands to fuck me harder, as the sofa is conveniently positioned close to the main foyer of my two-level condo. Damn, I can’t remember being so wet before. Was it the physical attraction, the little game of cat-and-mouse, or the. More

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