And then she had the skirt off, and had turned, thrusting her pussy at them, pulling up on it, showing her camel toe, showing her wetness.She strutted...to the edge again, and to a man there said, “smell me.”The man did, stuffing his nose against her sopping crotch. When he tried to grab her, she pushed him off. “Not yet,” she grunted. She treated several more men to her sopping crotch, then danced again to the center of the stage. There as she wiggled and danced, she slowly slipped her thong. She was in the living room, wearing her robe. This time it didn't bother Robby to see her in it."I'm done." he said. "We can paint now."She got up and stretched. The robe was tied tightly, but her breasts thrust out, pushing the silk toward him. "What did you write your poem about?" she asked, as she began walking toward the studio."The woman." he said.She stopped and turned around. "The woman who ... you think about when we paint?" She was looking at him through lowered lashes."Yes." he. More

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