It was true that their last encounter was all she could think about. Even in her cold showers, she'd touched herself imagining it was him. Her own fin...ers rubbing against her slick soapy clit then roughly pumping inside herself as she imagined him doing the same without mercy until she came over and over again.“Stay away, Mark,” she warned him, but more so to herself and her betraying thoughts.“Or what?” he smirked. She grabbed a pillow from the sofa and tossed it at him, yet it didn’t thwart. Cathy notices my interest and seems pleased. She takes in a breath and holds it, and holds out her tits for me like a soldier hoping to pass inspection. Or perhaps more like someone offering a delicacy on a silver platter. I smile but don't reach for them. I want to make her beg me to fondle them. And she will. If there were two men in the room they'd be fighting just to be the one to touch such beauties. Yet without competition I can make her suffer from neglect. Not suffer too much,. More

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