.. to swap... for... a bit..." hetries to fight the urge. He runs his hands across the shoulders of myshirt. Tweaks at my puffed out pigtails."Ah-Ah-A...exa!" he moans, unsure whether he's trying to get my attentionto stop or beckon me forward. Lust has overcome his senses, his eyesbegin to roll back on their inevitable journey towards oblivion. TheFrench refer to it as "La petite mort" - literally translated to "alittle death', that moment of a brief loss or weakening of consciousnessat the. She ripped his jacket off as he tore off his shirt sending buttons everywhere. She slid her hands down his muscles tracing the hard ridges of his chest down to his belt. As his hands went to remove his belt, she pushed his hands away and gave his stomach one long slow lick just above his pants. He let out a soft growl as she pulled his belt off in one fluid motion. His pants and underwear followed soon after. Her lips curved into a smile as she gazed at his cock. It was cock was long and thick. More

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