He slipped his wrinkled hand inside her now-open jean shorts and beneath her pants and found her clit, rubbing the tip of his middle finger quickly an... repeatedly over it, giving a little pressure. Cheyenne felt her nipples almost painfully erect as she whined with pleasure. While one hand was rubbing her clit, his other hand quickly went to her tits, pulling up the cup of the bra like it was his last chance, and rubbed her erect nipple between his thumb and index finger. Her mind was. “Excuse me,” she repeated, annoyance and impatience coloring her tone. “You are comfort. Your rose needs comfort,” came a firm, clear female voice. “Don’t listen to her, Solace. She’s just a homeless woman. I was calling the police to have her taken to a shelter.” Adam piped up. He withdrew a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and mopped his perspiring forehead. The humidity was stifling and oppressive, but he was too self-conscious about his excessive body hair to wear shorts. He noted, with. More

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