I match his pace, never missing a beat. We move together in total harmony, our rhythmic swaying motion is perfect. He moves a hand down and begins to ...troke on my clit, I moan out his name. Oh, that cheeky smile is back. He doesn't give in; he can feel I’m close. He knows my body so well, how can he? I don’t care, I just want him. He pounds down into me harder, with a hungry need. The way he touches my clit, pushes me on. I lift my hips, a wave of orgasm hits me, uncontrollable, shuddering with. I heard the shower start.I went into the livingroom and sank down on the sofa nearest the door. Too lazy to cross the room to the big couch or any of the comfy chairs. I thought about t.v., but it was so far away. The remote was nowhere nearby. Besides, the batteries were back in the kitchen. There were books on shelves off in the distance, but they were fixtures as familiar as the furniture, though even less to my tastes. Gardening tomes and tons of paperbacks that weren't selling as best as. I walked up behind her and grabbed a big handful of ass and rubbed my hand down her thigh. She was wearing some extremely short shorts, yes jean daisydukes pretty much. She freaked at first and then realized it was me and then she was ok. I continued to give the little gestures of getting her excited.. the usual. My arm around her hip would slide down her thigh with a little pressure. She started to warm up a bit. We met back up with her mom and grabbed some food from Firehouse Subs (my. Although they had never mentioned the key fact. How AKA did it. Offed them.Always using a piece of their own clothing. Just as he was going to do tonight. He smiled as the memories came. For the scruffy, dark-hairedtruck driver, his thick black bootlaces had served the purpose. For the lip-piercedMinnesota mallrat--lured into AKA's van by a promise of "some really greatgrass"--his faded Metallica T-shirt had done the trick, first pulled, thenwrung around the whimpering teen's pretty young neck..