(((I don't like wearing underware with my skirts))) He had to touch me but went slowly sliding his hand down my torso to my thigh. He massaged around...my thigh for a moment then seized the moment as I gasped out his name. He delighted in my breathy whispering of his name and touched one finger to the hot nubbin resting within the soft folds beneath a trimmed triangle of dark hair. My hips jerked against him as he added another finger to his ministrations. His fingers slid into my wetness and. We finish our drinks and go to our room. Once we are in, my personality changes - I am in the scene.You look up at me from where you are sat on the bed, a slight smile on your lips. You reach a hand up to me - and I swat it away. You look a bit confused at that."Don't touch me, queer" I mutter. "Not until I touch you."Your hands fall to your lap. You understand what's about to happen. It's the game - the game you wanted to play.Suddenly, shockingly, I lean down and grasp your jaw in a firm. More

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