She purred softly when his fingertips caressed the pearl of her pleasure, and she parted her thighs further. He watched her face as a small smile touc...ed her lips now…but her breathing was still as it was before, even and deep. Withdrawing his hand after feeling her hips move in rhythm to his gentle stroking, he tasted her nectar licking every trace of it from the fingers he had been using. Her gyrations slowed, then stopped. He looked at her exposed in the moonlight, a combination of innocence. When she would return she'd make up some excuse about her internet going out if anybody asked her about it. When asked to show to make up for it, she'd simply say she wasn't in the mood anymore. More often than not she was called a bitch for this, but I found it amusing and it endeared me to her all the more. A typical session with her was mostly just bullshitting though. In this method we'd delivered a bit of a more personal relationship. Not to say I knew anything about her, but we had. More

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