Gently, but firmly, she removed my hand from her crotch. "Do you think you can make me cum without the use of these?" you said as she sucked the necta... from my fingers.Not one to shy away from a challenge, I released her nipple and replied, "There's only one way to find out." Walking behind her, I buried my face in her neck, nuzzling, trailing kisses up to her earlobe, whispering the things I wanted to do to her.I wrapped my arms around her, cupping her exposed breasts as I continued to. Tell me what happened."The story was simple enough. Leslie had taken my challenge and had gone out to prove me wrong. By the time the night was half over she had managed to dance with every black man there, and had gotten everyone of them under the mistletoe, except Tony. For some reason he wouldn't ask her to dance so she took the bull by the horns and asked him. Halfway into the dance she asked him why he hadn't tried to get her under the mistletoe like everyone else had. Tony asked her why. “Great,” I replied. “Drink after work to discuss?”We met at a pub not far away, which was not popular with the magazine people nor the newspaper to which it was linked. We didn’t spend long about it, both wanting to save all the excitement for the real event.Saturday morning came and we sat together on the boat, the elderly diesel engine throbbing and whirring beneath us. It was a bumpy trip, as it often was, with a breezy stretch of open sea to contend with after you left the shelter of the. Mom was wearing a net saree, very thin mangalsutra, matching bangles, and four inches pencil heels. I complimented her and she smiled very gracefully. She was not looking like my mom. She was looking like she just got married some months ago.We went to the parking. She sat in the front seat of my car. I was not able to stop ogling at her. We reached her friend’s house. She was there at the gate itself. Her husband asked me to follow him so I can park my car.My mom and her friend went inside. I.