Gently, almost teasingly, I rubbed it over my lower lip, so slow I made myself gasp again. My tongue slipped from between my lips and licked over the ...ip of it. Mmm…there it was. That familiar, musky, almost sweet taste of my pussy. It’s not that I hadn’t tasted myself before, it was just….. this time, it was different. It wasn’t my finger in my mouth that I was sucking greedily on, it was his tongue. The tongue that had just brought me to orgasm almost effortlessly. I savored the taste, as if. I was frustrated that I never got a full look at her rack or her pussy. I assumed a woman like her kept it trimmed or shaved, but inquiring minds want to know.The sexual tension already high in just the first morning, it seemed obvious we both wanted the same thing. I worked the next hour relentlessly, beating my sexual frustrations away, and was just getting ready to go and pick something up for lunch when she came back out, now dressed in a sun dress, five inch heels and, shocking in today's. More

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