A date. With Karen Lyman. My cock stiffened again at the thought. I decided that if she liked me, it wouldn't really matter. Of course, I wouldn't car... what she wore but realized I really, really wanted her to look like the teacher I'd described in my essay—a woman who wore her long hair down, cascading around her shoulders. The curves of her tight body were accentuated by a brick red, form-fitting, rib-knit, sweater with a neckline that showed her cleavage with a necklace that fell into it. My. I watched the motion of her hips enthralled. He was not taking advantage. A slow dance, alone in her apartment, the rhythm seemed made to run your hands over her, to touch wherever she allowed, and to hope that each pass convinced her to allow more of her to be explored.He did nothing.She was in charge. I wished I could wrestle with her for control of that passion.Surprisingly, it was the first time I thought of being with her.I smiled as he just let her push him down to the floor She started a. More

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