That was glorious. I think I know what honey bees feel like when they catch scent of the nectar in a flower. My nostrils flared as I scented her flowe... open before me. I needed to taste her, to lick, to dig into her.Having her legs spread good’n wide weren’t half what I mean when I say she was open. She was open on the inside where it counts. Every lick and touch meant something, and she was all there meaning too. She was joyous there on top of me, watching my hand pump my dick. Her breasts. Keeping her back tohim made it a little easier to concentrate on what she tasted. The first thingthat she tasted was desert, the dry slightly alkaline taste of sand. A fewflicks later and she was able to ignore the sand taste and focus picking up onother things. Gasoline and oil were strong ingredients as well as rubber andrust. Her sensitivity was surprising. She had no idea she was capable ofdiscerning between so many tastes. She relayed what she was finding to Jack whojust nodded with every. She slipped her purse over her shoulder, and tried to tiptoe quietly across the kitchen floor to where her bf was sleeping. It was hard to do in stilettos, but gradually she made progress, walking only on the front of her heels. As she stood on the carpet of the living room, she looked to her left and saw her reflection in the full-length mirror. Not bad, she thought. She was wearing green leather stiletto pumps, about 3 inches tall. Which was good, considering she was only 5 foot 4 or so. With. ”“Thank you, I will.”“Oh, the funeral for the girl will probably be on Saturday. Maybe she wants to attend. I can call you once I know more.”“OK, thank you. Can you give me the directions to the staff room?”I don’t think I had ever before seen anything so pitiful. That’s not meant to be derisive, but I almost didn’t recognize her. She seemed broken, alone in the world. I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t react. It didn’t seem to me as if she even recognized I was there. Another woman was.