She told me to sit at her feet. She read me poetry, from a small leather bound book, poetry she had written, some I had read before but all new with her voice, and her hand stroking my hair as I listened and she read. I rested my head on her knee. Her poems are dark, opening my mind to both her desires and my own. As she read my knickers became wet, that delicious wet that only silk can give. My nipples hardened and pushed, brushed against the silk of my blouse. She noticed, I know she did. She finished reading and closed the book. ‘Are you wet?’ ‘I am, Miss.’ She kissed me. ‘Good girl.’ Part 2 Her hand ran over my hair and smoothed, she curled it around her hand and then pulled my head back suddenly and hard. Her mouth descended onto mine and her free hand cupped my breast. She rolled the nipple between her thumb and finger, the pressure increasing as she pulled it. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth and probed me, I sucked it. Pulling me up by my hair as we kissed, she bit my. ” To my amazement, my words actually made her blush! That was not something easily accomplished with Marci, who could undoubtedly trade sexual jibes, taunts and innuendo with a group of sailors without blushing. “Thanks, Dave, that’s a really nice compliment. Can I tell you a secret?” “Isn’t that what we’re doing here?” She laughed. “I suppose so, huh? I loved it when you touched me. I’ve fantasized about you – a lot – and when you touched me…oh my god! Fireworks!” I was amazed! This was Michael’s woman, huge, muscular, perfect physique and hung like a horse Michael, and she was saying that I was her fantasy and that my touch had turned her on! Trying to ignore the fact that I had a boner you could use as a crowbar, I smiled at her. “Wow, Marce, that’s such an ego boost I can’t even begin to tell you! And of course, you could easily tell how much I was enjoying touching you too…it was fairly obvious, after all.” Her eyes went to my crotch; I was pretty sure she could see how her words.
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