This skin of her ass is smooth, soft, and just a bit cold to my touch. My hands cover her small buns letting me feel the power of her taught muscles. ...She runs her hands through my hair. I pull away from her lips for a second. We look into each other’s eyes. We both know. We both want. She reaches for my zipper and releases my cock as I raise the hem of her dress. My cock drips in anticipation. The contrast of the cool air with the warmth of her hand is driving me nuts. She’s wearing skimpy,. Now, it was all I could do to get control of my emotions. With the memory of her body still fresh in my mind, I quickly sketched her. The depth of detail in my memory was quite amazing and when I was done, I had eleven sketches that were just great. Taking the two best ones to my studio, I set up my easel and did charcoal drawings, using the sketches as a basis. It was by no means the same as a live model, but I’d seen the live model and the memories were clear enough to let me give the piece. She was clearly holding back, prolonging my torture.She was cutting off just enough air, so that my breathing was very laboured.I would have barely been getting enough air in through my mouth,but my lips were sealed shut to the pressure of her crotch bearing down hard onto my mouth.The only air I was getting, was through the small little space between her soft smooth round bumcheeks, to which my nose was wedged up against.I flared my nostrils, trying to get more air, but it was no use.My nose. Toasts and more toasts kept the flow of the conversations going. It was late when the festivities ended.I started my day as usual, reading the intelligence updates then back to meeting with Prime Minister Morris. Today’s meetings were with much of our combined staff.By 1100 we were finished. The trade people were happy on both sides. The State Department was happy with many of the agreements just being extended with little or no changes.The generals were satisfied; there were some new.