If I had a special talent, telepathy would be it. I’m having dinner with a guy I have fucked more times than I can remember, and while he holds most of my attention, it’s impossible not to notice a couple at a table in front. The man doesn’t catch my eye the way his blonde woman does. Well, that’s because he isn’t half as pleasing to my eyes as she. Between the hair falling against the top of her breast and the thick thighs pressing against the seat, of course, I can’t look away! Besides, those thighs are quivering at the thought of lesbian pussy worship and I know it.
Why Am I So Obsessed With Satisfying Her?
The only thing on my mind is pleasing her. My pussy starts to tingle beneath my dress as my whole body craves a moment with her. Her eyes are dull, without a trace of pleasure. She doesn’t want to be here. With him. Oh, how I want to fix her.
I don’t even have to be on the receiving end. All I want to do is give. The thought of bringing her to climax while her boyfriend knows nothing sends chills throughout me. So, when she makes her way toward the bathroom, I excuse myself from my table right away. Because why not? She is obviously craving some one on one lesbian pussy worship, and I am the girl for the job. I’m not even worrying about her saying no to my advances. Well, that’s because she kept stealing glances at me. Trust me, it couldn’t all be for nothing.
Ready For A Steamy Bathroom Lesbian Pussy Worship Situation
When I meet her in the bathroom, she’s in front of the rectangular mirror covering up one of the four walls of the room. A ‘hey beautiful’ sounds like a great conversation starter, so I go for it. Toss in a little talk about being tired of men and she’s already hooked. I wonder silently if the drool on the tip of her lips, match any type of drool in her cunt. She’s dirty. Unapologetically filthy. When she makes the first move, smothering me with a kiss, I can swear I’m not the first woman she’s ever been with. Her hands move expertly, finding their way around the hem of my dress.
No, wait. This isn’t the way things should go. I entered the bathroom with a mission to satisfy her lesbian pussy worship fantasy, and I am not about to let this purpose be defeated. I reach for the puffiness between her legs. She’s slick with her juices, as expected. While our lips stay locked together in fusion, I start to rub her through her panties. The thin cotton is already soaked with that sweet liquid I crave. There’s a great chance of her extract smearing her dress and telling everyone of her filth. But she doesn’t seem to mind. Neither do I. I almost taunt the audacity of her cum to show it isn’t a coward.
Frozen Here, Waiting For Sweet Sweet Cream
We don’t move away from the mirror. I glue my body to hers, our eyes locked together as I strum her pussy like a guitar that hasn’t been playing the right toon lately. She squirms on her feet, and then she leans backward, pressing her body into mine without a sliver of space between us. I move her thickness I was gazing at earlier aside to gain access to her. Her walls ease around my fingers, soft to the touch. They let me in with zero resistance. Her eyes start to light up as I pump her with my fingers. In and out, and then in slow circles. A few more strokes and then she cums all over my fingers. At least now I know her dinner with that man will be well worth it.
That, darling, is just a taste of how a proper, or not so proper, lesbian pussy worship should go down. Why don’t you call me and see what kind of hot phone sex we could have together?
