I called Mrs. I picked up the pace and squeezed a little tighter. His hand moved down between my legs and I opened wide for him. “That makes it slippery,” he told me. “It’s getting dry,” I said. He leaned back and I moved in a little closer to watch what I was doing. I turned back to the screen. I returned the carrying tray to the kitchen where I found Bobby staring into the microwave again. “I was just wondering what we will have for dinner,” I said. He slipped his hand over to my pussy, dipped his finger in and began stroking my button. I called Mrs. “What makes you think I would want you to lick my pussy?”
“Guys say that girls like their pussies licked.”
“They are just trying to get you to do something stupid.
