.. and his eyes spoke more than his mouth.He had something about him, she thought... something very appealing about his silence... some sort of hidden...passion, manifested not only by the semi-permanent bulge in his pants, but also by his delicate mannerism in which he touched her and the way he breathed when he fucked her... it always seemed as if he was holding back something more than words... and she never thought she'd discover it that way.He came to visit again, as she asked him to... and. “Bobby, no!” she cried. Ignoring her, my hands grasped her firm buttocks through the tennis panties that she wore underneath the mid-thigh length tennis skirt. My mouth went to her neck. Her aroma was intoxicating. If I had had any second thoughts about my gambit, they were thoroughly washed away by the fragrance that radiated from her, a mixture of perfume and the perspiration from her tennis lesson that had dried on the smooth, soft texture of her skin.As I intensified both the hold I had. More

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