My Friend Wife

She wasn’t just teasing herself, she was fucking herself with her fingers. “You have such a soft, gentle touch,” she complemented me. “Real he...ling hands.” I laid my right hand on top of hers as it moved up and down between her legs. “I wish my hands could please you the way yours do,” I said. “Oh, they do,” Vanessa assured me, “they do, but in a different way. Time to change hands so I don’t get R.S.I.” With this she removed her right hand and replaced it with her left. “Want to taste my pussy. Her dress shirt is unbuttoned almost to her waist, and her skirt is hiked up around her hips. The armrest between us is up and she's pressed against me, her hand on my chest. I have one arm over her shoulder and my other hand is inside her bra. She's whispering in my ear, telling me that she's been thinking about me all day. She says the more she thought, the hotter she got. She tells me about crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together during a long meeting. She tells me that she was. More

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