No water. White smoke graced my curves, my wet hair, my boobies. I stood up onto my feet, taking it all in. No sooner did I stand up did I feel a hand...on my thigh. Lucy? Was it her? Turning quickly, I faced the empty air, no pretty girl to meet. Pushing through the steam, I felt another hand on my ass. Then my tummy. Then my hair.Everyone wanted to touch me, but I couldn’t find them. I couldn’t lean into their strong forms, lean over and let someone carry me. My feet were still ticklish, and I. ." he mischieviously added.He disrobed to a minuscule thong, similar to those worn by strippers, and straddled her legs resting his weight over her calf muscles. Extending his arms, he began working at the top of her shoulders, dutifully kneading her smooth flesh.She was absolutely conscious that the minuscule towel did not but frame her just-shaven crack, and that the man over her did have a first-row sight of her glistening vagina. If she was hot before, the awkwardness of the fast advance of. More

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