It was wonderful titillation; pardon the pun. “Oh, before I forget again. I noticed that your brake lights on the passenger side are out. I have bee... meaning to mention it to you but ...” I blurted, realising she about to conclude our chat and my wanting to prolong it. “Oh really! I had better get my husband to see to them on the weekend. He is away at the moment otherwise I would call him and tell him.” Again, her tone of speech told me that she was touched and genuinely pleased with my. "Now... wait... gotta do.. the laundry." With a sigh into your ear, I let go of your ass, as I feel your leg slide down mine, and your foot touch the floor, and take a step back. "Ok." I mock sigh. I grab my dick ones, 'causing your eyes to look down at the movement, and I grin as you look back up. "If you must." I see the look in your eyes, the lust burning in them, as you walk past me to the laundry basket on the ground. I watch your ass as you pass me, and feel my dick pulse as you bend. You laughed the laugh that you get only when you are really truly and completely enjoying yourself, a deep hearty laugh as you scooped me up and sauntered off to the bedroom. You had that arrogance about you that you see little boys with when they think they have just gotten away with something epic and are now carrying away their prize. We got into the bedroom and you gave me about fifteen seconds to look around and admire the elegant but masculine furniture and get a quick glimpse into the. Cheyenne had her fans who sat at their tables near the stage watching her strut her stuff across the stage. One fan never missed a night and that was Roger, a tall, thin man with dark brown hair and brown eyes, who had fallen in love with Cheyenne the first night he saw her dance. She looked directly into his eyes and she slowly removed her clothes as if she was making love to him up on the stage through her eyes. He never felt such a burning desire deep with in his loins and had decided that.