I could draw from memory the curve of his calf, the break at the knee, and then spreading full and muscled sat his thigh and square ass on the desk se...t. He didn't have that hour glass waist, but a full manly waist that was firm and stout, and flared up and outward to his thick, broad shoulders and neck. He always wore tee shirts that didn't seem to actually fit him too well, always seemed kind of short, never tucked into his jeans waist band. I loved that he when he stood up, his pants were. His hand moves further round my thigh, his fingers tracing up towards my pussy. If he touched it, his fingers would come away soaked. But he doesn’t; he takes his hand away. I almost groan out loud in sexual frustration. ‘I want you…’ I breathe into his ear. ‘Do… do that again.’He smirks and says ‘You’re gonna have to beg, princess,’ ‘Please…’His fingers are back, creeping towards my pussy. He stops as my drink is brought over. This time I really do groan, gaining weird looks from other. More

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