Don’t stop. Don’t you dare to stop!Snuggling. Enjoying. At the same time. But not with the same man.You need a signal, don’t you? What if… I r...ach back behind me, grab his arm, place my hand on his, just in the moment he reaches the tiny area between my thighs and my crotch. And lead him to my private parts. Restless. Wet. Needy.The sound of my boyfriends heart is ripped away from my ear, as he pulls me over, grabs me, full of lust. His tongue wrestles with mine, in a fraction of seconds I can. By the way, is there anything I can get you to drink, or a snack if you are hungry?”“Water is fine”, Jasper responded, and I brought back two mineral waters.As we sat and drank the water for a few moments, I turned to Jasper again:“Listen Jasper, I want to make this as comfortable as possible for you. We can go upstairs, and you can do whatever you feel like. You can touch me, or just look at me, and you are welcome to touch yourself. Don’t feel that you have to do anything to make this worth. It was a wonderful experience massaging oil over the skin of this young woman. I was now able to openly look at her in daylight without being seen as a pervert. My touch was business like. My hands did what they had to do with the oil. I admired her pert breasts and nipples as I coated them. I enjoyed the way her nipples budded and hardened under my fingers. As my hands worked down her belly I wondered what to do when they arrived at her genital area. I decided it would be churlish and stupid. It was later discovered he was a very young looking 19 year old and had even used a false name.Her foster parent's views on abortion had forced her to keep the c***d, and so Michael had been born. But she never once regretted the decision, never having anything but love for him. Her foster parents had supported her in everything, watching him for her so she could continue school and then college.At the age of 22 she had met Michael's step-father, who was then 29 and the owner and founder of his.