He had large hands, well manicured but the backs were a little hairy, I watched as he moved his hands back to my milky white pussy, so different from ...iss Jackson’s hands against my skin.He pulled open my pussy lips, closely inspecting me, his face so close I could feel his hot breath against my wet folds, he stuck out his tongue and quite aggressively licked my exposed pussy. The sensations were so different from Miss Jackson’s mouth, rougher, bigger tongue, more powerful, so so different but. But I wanted to see it. I wanted to touch it, taste it. I wanted it inside of me most of all, and with a flash all of my hornyness was back with a vengeance. A small part of me had worried that it would be weird. Too much like incest or something, until I remembered how it felt when he'd smelled my hair. John wasn't like my brother. He was closer than my family, and different. And I wanted him in the worst way.Which translated into manic babble in the back of the cab. With my anxiety replaced. More

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