Admiring Sheila’s erotic work, I cupped her lovely ass cheeks in my fingers and leaned in and filled my nostrils with her heavenly scent. Slipping S...eila’s panties off, I saw her majestic treasure. "Oh my God, Chrissy, don't stop!" exclaimed Sheila. "Lick me!" Smiling up at my lovely Sheila, I gently parted lovely pussy lips . I then slipped my warm, moist tongue between her wet petals, once again tasting this gorgeous creature’s sweet essence. Relishing in the taste of Sheila’s tasty pussy, I. I kept kissing her and rubbing her inner thigh. She was like: “not here, someone might see”. I wanted her to blow me, but I didn’t want to bust a nut right then and there. I wanted to save my energy for later. I reached around her shoulder and squeezed her breasts. I kept getting the urge to “do more” so I pulled up the underside of her sweater and started sucking her nipples. She rubbed the back of my head and goaded me towards the center of her chest. I was licking and sucking. She. Half giddy with the visceral thrill of what I was doing, flushed with the sheer shame of it as well, I was a complete mess. For the first time in my life, there was options and choices, a sobering prospect. With her shoulder length brown hair, always so glossy and luxurious, the generous and inviting mouth which gently promised such forbidden, carnal pleasures. Oftentimes I would find myself daydreaming during a lecture, wondering what it would feel like to press my lips against hers. I. This slowly wears away at her because she is introspective and subject to mild depression. She keeps remembering the Peggy Lee song her father would play when she was growing up, "Is That All There Is?" She asks herself, "Is a 'perfect' life all there is? What is an imperfect life like? Is it more to life being a risk taker than a mother and wife in a secure loving family?" These are the things she thinks about when she struggles with the same routines day in and day out. One more thing tugs at.