The Chair

I’m sitting in my papasan chair. My footstool is nearby. We are deep in conversation when suddenly my guy plops himself onto the stool and looks at me intently.

“I’m sorry Baby, but I can smell your sweetness, and I want to taste you.”

Huh? What?

As I said, we were in a serious conversation. He smells me? I look down at myself. I’m wearing a flowing skirt and my legs are parted a bit. I don’t know what to do next. His hands go to my thighs, stroking and rubbing them through the fabric.

Oh boy! I grin at him cause I know what’s coming. I let my legs open more.

Next thing he’s moving my skirt up and touching my bare skin. He runs his fingers along the inside of my thighs. Shit! He is really turning me on.

My legs are open even more now in response to the feelings growing from the feather-like touching and squeezing of my thighs, encouraging me to open wider. He slides his hands up and around my ass and pulls my panties down slowly, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

The closeness of his head to my pussy, the suddenness of his actions, the sensual way he’s touching me, are all stirring me deep down in my pussy. “I want your juices on my lips and on my tongue.” “Is that ok with you, Puddin?”

Oooh Wheee!!!. “You don’t have to ask me twice”, Sugga, I say as I slide down a bit and spread my lips. “Come dine on me .”