I looked away and then glanced in her direction again. Once again her head turned to look at me. We made eye contact and out came those dreaded butter...lies in my stomach that I hate. I hated that nervous feeling of knowing it's time to make a move and deciding whether to puss out or not because I feared rejection.Why does this happen to me? In this situation, why would I be so hesitant to walk over to her and start a conversation? I mean she was the one who was staring at me to begin with so. I could see her thick licks protruding. She straightened and turned. Her pussy was hairy but trimmed neatly. I licked my lips realizing that sometimes she tanned naked, the thought sent a sweet chill through my body. She toyed with her breasts, squeezing them pressing them together as she came towards the bed, slipping her hand down between her legs and her slit then sucking on the two fingers that disappeared between her folds of sweet pussy flesh. I sighed loudly. She smiled licking her. I pressed her breasts as if pressing an auto wala air horn. I slid my hands from front to sides of her breasts. She gasped for more air. Then I unhooked her bra revealing the perky mountains with a hard erect nipples.Then I moved her to the hall and made her lie on her stomach as she wanted to complete the massage blind folded. I poured some oil on my hands & started working out on her shoulders, upper back (triangular motion), lower back. I asked her to stretch her hands in the front & tied. ”“You don’t understand, Dag,” she sobbed. “They said he checked out and paid the bill for a late departure so we didn’t have to hurry.”“He checked out?” I was having a hard time processing this. “And left us here?”“Yes,” she sobbed as she sank down on the edge of my bed and buried her face in her hands. I patted her on the back, not knowing quite what the proper response should be. I was saved by the chime on the front door. “That’s breakfast,” she said. “How could he do this?”“Well, look, you.