Being an archetypical fella—yeah, ‘tis the moment to roll your eyes—I, of course, felt challenged beyond my mental capabilities of not compulsiv...ly proving my virility. It was late spring, warm enough for skimpy clothes, pheromones, fumes of cheap weed and the smell of volatile solvents for even cheaper deodorant sprays saturating the air, natural instincts kicking in and screw me if she wasn’t the curviest girl I had ever laid my greedy eyes upon. Breasts comically stretching the strategically. Gwen almost gasped to see how little the outfit hid. She wondered if she could actually go through with this. She was no prude but her breasts would be visible from the sides, and such cleavage, while her hips would be in full view as the thong was little more than a heavy string and small triangular patch which afforded her virtually no modesty at all.Trying on the heels and taking a few steps brought the realization she would need some practice walking in them. She shook her head, but. She leaned forward and pulled my headinto her breasts. Her hands moved down my chest, unbuttoning my shirt. I closedmy eyes and lost myself in the sensations. She opened mybelt and slacks, and pulled them off me as I lifted to help her. That left mesitting there in my blue boxer briefs and black oxfords. She then stoodand started dancing again. She danced around me through the various songs andnever touched me, nor did she take anything off. She moved as I would imagine aharem girl dancing the. She crawled onto the foot of the bed and lowered her mouth over Harry's organ.She began by using her tongue, running it up and down his shaft. Then she placed it into her mouth and began the same wonderful technique she used the other night. Harry groaned in pleasure and tugged at his invisible bounds. He frantically wanted to touch her, to run his hands through her hair. But she had cruelly bound him to his bedpost.Slurping noises emanated from Hermione as she bobbed up and down on his pole,.