I must have passed out for a few seconds, because the next thing I was aware of, she was returning from the bathroom with a warm washcloth and began t... clean my legs and genitals with it. She was smiling and humming softly, something that vaguely resembled a lullaby. Sitting cross-legged there in the dimness, she looked like a goddess, the earthly avatar of wanton passion itself. We laughed together half-heartedly and expressed our awe and wonder at the experience we had shared. I was gratified. The damn thing was quivering and lurching; every shift of the cloth across the head left me whimpering. No chance of sleep in this state. The immediate association was naturally to wonder what Sylvia would do as she nestled into her bed. Would a shy hand slip a sly finger down between her thighs?This was nonsense, of course. Upstairs or down, all Sylvia would be thinking of was how in the morning she'd be able to get back into her apartment and resume her real life. Not that my cock was. More

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