She unhooked the fastening on my skirt and let it drop to the floor, leaving me in as little as she wore. My underwear was bright red, my rebellion fo... having to wear black on the outside. She held my hands, stepped back and smiled. The smile that made her eyes shine. It always held an air of mischief, like she knew something I didn't. "I'm loving the underwear," she said. "It'll look better on the floor," I said, a little shocked at the words that had come out of my mouth. I cut off her. With a wicked grin, Amy realized if she were careful, she could probably get herself off on the bike. As nonchalantly as possible, Amy started to grind her swollen clit against the seat. She masked her arousal by peddling even faster, gasping for air and trying desperately not to make any overtly sexual sounds. As she got wetter, she let her imagine run away with her, thinking of that gorgeous man ravaging her mercilessly. She rode for minutes this way, constantly letting the seat hit the right. More

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