Intimate and safe, like a pillow-fort. The armrest creates a border between us. It seems like a formidable thing to me – a demilitarized zone – bu... you toy with it; attacking across, and expertly retreating. Making a game of violating my airspace. One hand loosely holding your drink, the other camped on the armrest when it isn’t making forays into my space, to tug at my shirt, or lightly brush the back of my hand. Your every touch a bomb dropping.Your eyes sparkle as you set me up to give you. Shesquatted down in front of him, intimately close, and reached out to liftthe front of his infantile dress. Her experienced fingers found hisnipples and began to tease them. He mewled piteously -- at least as muchas he could with his tongue pressed against the floor of his mouth -- andblinked to fight back tears. His cock and balls hurt from the way herfingers were stimulating him, as well as from the accumulated unfulfilledneeds of days -- and weeks -- past."Poor Baby Beany," she cooed,. More

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