Smell my musky damp laplapa

When Jack got home she ran over to the door, dodged the bouquet in his hands, wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in for a long, lingering kis.... "Welcome home lover," she whispered and then grinned as she noted his reaction, both on his face and within his pants. "I wanted to make this Valentine's Day a memorable one instead of the usual. Just follow me dear..." She broke the embrace and slipped a foot or so away, wiggled her rear at him and headed off towards the bedroom. For his part. She hesitates. After a moment, I change position as if to wait out my silence, twisting around so that my left arm rests on the back of the couch, while my right hand takes over tracing feather-light patterns on her thigh. As nervous as she is right now, she is also thrilled, not to mention: aroused. She is not sure if she ever mentioned to me that she doesn't often wear panties; she regrets not wearing any tonight. She must be soaking through her jeans. I tickle her neck, playing with a strand. More

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