He ran downstairs in bounds, collected the bottle and two glasses and ran up again skipping half the stairs. When he came back in the bedroom Jane was...sitting on the bed looking at her pussy. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘You’re running out of me.’ She felt with a finger. ‘You’re sticky,’ she giggled. She licked her finger. ‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘So that’s what a man tastes like!’ Ian poured two generous measures of malt. He handed her a glass and raised his own. ‘Here’s to us,’ he said. He climbed onto the. After all, he had only just met her, and, well... Oh, SHIT! But the whole spiel sounded just as empty to him the second time when he reviewed it. It was as obvious a rationalization as he had ever heard. He was glad he had not said anything.John laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Her pussy was still milking his prick as she lay on top of him, watching his inner struggle as it played out on his face. She had hoped, well, that she would at least find out his name. It had been. "I mean, it seems fair, since you've seen me."We paused at her corner and she thought this over. "I suppose so," she admitted dubiously. "But I'd die of embarrassment!" I thought I would, too, but I didn't," I pointed out. "You might try going around naked at home, when no one is there, I mean, so you can sort of get used to how it feels."She shivered. "I've - I've gotta get home. See you tomorrow?" You sure will," I answered with a chuckle. "All of me!" Yeah!" She giggled. "See you." See. How I would watch him intently as he laid back, closed his eyes and enjoyed stroking himself to thoughts of me. All the while listening to and enjoying my moans of pleasure as I teased and fucked myself to thoughts of him and his love. I recollected about how each time I loved saying I love you and how I wished I could have touched him just to show him how much. No matter how much I try to focus otherwise, that "impossible dream" we had talked about trying to accomplish together creeps into the.