His words make me me shiver with arousal. The fire that burns up inside of me flares up, making my kiss all the more intense and hot. I help him slide...his long-sleeved shirt off his shoulders. I feel the muscle that lies on his arm, gripping it tight with my hands as we keep grinding against one another. His hands ever so slowly travel up under my linen shirt. I feel the warm touch of his fingers as our tongues dance together in what seems to be rhythmic movements. Whenever our tongues pushed. That is where these take me.” “May I sit with you?” he asked. “Of course,” she responded. He sat on the bench beside her and Stacey became even more aware of him. He was very understated but there was a power that exuded from him and she recognized the faint scent of Chanel “Bleu”. She liked that he had not doused himself with the cologne as many men did. “Please tell me more about what you see,” he asked. “I am interested, you see, because I am the one who painted them. I’m Jean-Pierre. She was Latina with very curly black hair . I estimated her measurements to be about 34 EEE – 26-36. She was wearing a flowery Mexican peasant blouse, adorned with many semi-precious stones. I recovered. “You’ve come to see me? What’s your name?” “My name is Solana .” I asked, “And you want to suck me off?” “Of course, but I’m hoping that this won’t just be a suck off. Is it remotely possible that we can meet again?” “This isn’t usual for me, but we can go out for drinks or you can even come to. In D.C. I couldn't afford to go out very often. It was too expensive. I and my friends used to go to a place that wasn't so popular, OR expensive, and get drinks, and nurse the hell out of them, sitting near a door, and watch the ladies go in and out. Even that was almost more than we could afford to spend. I made MUCH more there, but it wasn't enough but to go out 2 or 3 times a month, and stay within my means. I was raised by frugal folks, that insisted on saving as much as they could "for a.