Your lips are now dripping sweet nectar from them. Waiting to be opened and freed from the constraints of your thong. My fingers run down and then up,...gently tracing the shape of your pussy through the drenched, thin material. “Would you like to taste your own juices?” I ask. “You know I would,” you whimper slowly. I gently rest my fingers against your mound, juices drip onto my fingers. I lift them up and place them against your lips. You open your mouth; your tongue moves around my fingers. Smiling I unclipped his pants and pulled them down to above the knee, his cock was protruding skywards in his boxers. Roaming my hand over him he gasped as I clenched my fist around his rod. Looking at him he smiled as he unbuttoned my jeans, I helped him as I knelt on the seat I pushed them down and he pulled my undies down to release me.He pulled me closer as I moved forward he kissed me, then licked me as his hand cupped my balls my cock was engulfed by his mouth, he sucked and then his hand. As Darryl was getting his equipment together, a sultry voice from the closet asked, "Hey, Mr. Photoman with your camera of the future, what would you like your model to wear?" How about that 'Rita Hayworth' gown to start, and then my all-time very favorite, the white bustier?" And I suspect you won't need a third choice, because we've never gotten past the bustier yet. Get your camera running. I'll be right out." Right out," in this case, was on the female timescale, which is somewhat different. We have a maid name (Pooja) who use to take care of me or you can say play with me as she was of my age. One day in the afternoon, me and pooja were alone in the house suddenly Pooja started crying as she had a pain in her lower stomach. Pooja went to toilet and was not coming out.When Mother came, she went inside the toilet. She came out quite normal like nothing has happened; I asked mother what happened to pooja, she said not to worry with a smile on her face. Then she called pooja’s.