With one final, almost sensual moan of relief and pleasure, she at last stood and let go of her cheeks, turning now quite suddenly to face me. Or rath...r now, it was her cunt was just inches from my face.“That will do,” she pronounced, looking down upon me, “that’s finally stopped the itching. Ah ... No, you can get up now and I’ll help you wash yourself. I’m fine now. That part ... there,” she gestured with a finger running across her vaginal lips, just inches from my mouth, “is alright and. There was no doubt she was flirting, but the question was why.Still, it was hard to ignore her tight, fitted t-shirt, which stretched with the most eye-catching wrinkles between her large breasts. The jeans she wore may as well have been painted on, leaving little to the imagination there. His own jeans grew a little tighter as well.“Happy to do it,” he said as he accepted his ice cream.“It’s Caitlin, if you didn’t catch the name tag.”“Dave,” he responded.She made a little surprised sound, and. More

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