"Thanks," she said, "how about you?" How about me what?" You don't have to wear the same clothes all the time, you know." Oh that," I said, "I don't m...nd, really." Well, I do. I want to see you in something else tomorrow, okay?"I shrugged and didn't bother to meddle with this issue any further. She,on the other hand, wasn't going to let go."So you really meant when you said you'll put on something differenttomorrow, right?" she began as we were walking towards the bedroom, ourheels clicking on. I respondedwith the fact that it certainly was not the worsttasting stuff in the world. I followed that up with afew minutes of discussion regarding the texture andthe feelings I had as it slid across my tongue anddown my throat. I finished cleaning my hand and talkedto her about other ways we could act upon this fetish.Upon hearing all this, it was her turn to orgasm andwrithe in ecstasy. That was the last time I was able to eat my own cum onmy own. We have talked during foreplay about it,. Anything, to prolong this night, was welcome. The lounge was mostly deserted. Just a few pairs of businessmen near the bar. Christina chose to sit on a leather sofa near the fake fireplace. Undercurrents flowed through my brain. This was, like the restaurant, quite romantic. We sat mostly side-ways so it would be easier to see each other as we talked. The waiter brought our drinks and we spent several minutes just watching the gas logs. Christina was the first to speak. She softly told me,. She blushed a bit, and I pointed that out. "Oh, Dear, I haven't blushed in I don't know how long!" I replied "It becomes you!" This exchange shifted our conversation dramatically. I went on to embellish my comments about how the bathing suit flattered her shape, as well. Now, she didn't blush. Rather, she slid closer - placed her mouth to my ear - and said "I know this is forward of me, but you are a very handsome gentleman!" I smiled, put my lips to her ear, and said, "And, Donna, you are a.