"Hmmmm. Looks like your fate hasn't arrived yet," she said, removing her coat. Jerry took hers and hung it next to his in the foyer closet. Connie was...wearing her drop-dead jet-black Armani sheath, the one with the spaghetti straps across her shoulders. It molded itself to her every lovely curve. She could feel her husband's gaze on her as she walked gracefully into the kitchen, the high heels stretching her legs, her pert ass twitching under the fabric.Look and lust, honey, she was thinking.. She was pressing my head so as to make me unable to lift off my head. I was licking her thighs in between and then back to pussy. She was moaning. And moving. Her bra had started to slide but was still intact.It was the time for the final blow. I put my fingers on her panty’s waist strap and she lifted her buttocks as if she was waiting for me to remove her undies. I waited. She held my hands and start pulling down her panty. I removed her hands and pulled her panty down in a stroke. She rested. Brent shifting in her seat every once in a while, re-crossing her legs, causing her skirt to ride up giving me a lovely view of the tops of her black net thigh-high stockings. I was the only lucky man in the room with such a privileged view.These sessions usually last about two hours and I always plan a break in the middle for the intake and outflow of fluids from the audience. It was then that the Brents singled me out with some nice words on how they had found my comments and suggestions so. Water was not ending, neither was our kiss.As I made her lie down and started licking the deep navel, the deep navel and so sexy it was. In the dim light, I could see floral panty beneath the white legging. I was feeling the wetness on the legging and that aroma of her juices was already taking over me. I pulled her leggings down and she got my jeans off my legs.Her legs were waxed, as smooth as butter. Thighs were bright, shining, smooth and the fairest part of her body. I love kissing her.
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