I wanted more. Hell, I ached for more. Lost once more in melancholy, I didn’t see him approach. No matter, I didn't have to see him. The air around ...im was vibrant with electricity and the hair on the nape of my neck rose. It was as if a voyeur was infringing on my personal space, watching and waiting. Oh yes, I was aware of his presence all right.After standing behind me for a moment, he spoke. “Turn around," he said. "Don’t say anything, just turn around so that I can see you."He must be. . personal ... this time. And of course my little head loved to dream up situations in which instead of my hand, it might get to slide into something a lot closer to a real, live pussy. Like an actual, real, live pussy. And even though the portrait hadn’t shown anything other than a little pubic hair above a tantalizing shadow, my little head knew which real, live pussy it wanted to plunder.In other words, I felt a little bad that I thought about fucking Hannah while I fucked my hand instead. I. More

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