I imagined his hand working their way down my chest, playing with my nipples, kissing me deeply as he did so. I played with my hard clit, rubbing it, ...aking the rest of my pussy ache. He always did this too, I remembered. Playing with my clit until I could barely take it anymore, my pussy grinding against his hand and soaking wet. I pushed my jeans down further, until they were completely off. I rolled onto my stomach and ground my clit against the floor, making me squirm. I could feel the. Some sort of hidden passion, manifested not only by the semi-permanent bulge in his pants, but also by his delicate mannerism in which he touched her and the way he breathed when he fucked her... it always seemed as if he was holding back something more than words... and she never thought she'd discover it that way.He came to visit again, as she asked him to... and when he walked in, he pecked her on the cheek and stroked her arm. She invited him in, and turned around to ask him if he wanted a. More

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