I treat each article of clothing as a key to his arousal, and with every article I remove, he becomes more and more turned on but still focused on his task. He doesn’t do a corny Chippendale striptease or anything but he makes sure to take his time as well to get my juices flowing. Softly, he spreads my lips and he inhales the scent of my pussy. Softly, he spreads my lips and he inhales the scent of my pussy. Trembling, shivering, and ready for release, I chant, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” to the heavens. He knows every inch of my body by touch: the inside of my elbow, the indentation of my belly button, the crease where my butt meets my leg all the way down to the soft padding on the tip of my toes. I usually just throw my head back and luxuriate in the feel of his strong fingers coaxing me to the very edge of pleasure.
