At some point I kissed her; a soft, gentle peck atop her head as my fingers drifted along her quite prominent collar bone. Finally the sobbing stoppe... and Pippa raised her tear smeared, quivering lipped face up so that once again we looked each other in the eyes. I felt her hand on my thigh; trembling fingers, sticky palm, the heat burning through the fine denier of my stockings, nails playing nervously along their lace tops. Pippa’s face was so close to mine that my eyes had difficulty. When she wears those tightly wrapped around sarees she looks like the ancient statues posing for kamasutra positions. I also encourage her to wear short skirts and tank tops especially when we are out of town and away from her prying friends and relatives.Sometimes when we go out for a dinner or a drive, I ask her not to wear any bra and panty and at any given chance I finger her pussy and massage her breast to make her nipples hard. When her nipples are hard they stick out obscenely. And if I. More

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