“My yoga pants?”“Mmm, yes ... yoga pants.”Cynthia grinned, “I think they make my butt look good.” She stood and turned her back on Lanying... bending forwards slightly. Cynthia wore no underwear beneath the stretched fabric and she knew it was pulled tightly into her crotch, enough that her vulva was pronounced. “You like?”Lanying giggled, “I like.”It had been a week since the night spent with the voyeur. Cynthia was fixated on those memories, fucking her husband Ray several times that week while. Her fingers tickled the lacey tops of my thigh highs, causing me to tremble with pleasure. Our lips unlocked and eyes met. She saw the lust in my eyes and moved off the couch and to the floor in front of me. My dress began to climb up toward my hips, exposing my pretty red panties. The fabric and waistband strained to maintain the obscene bulge. I could feel the head of my cock sliding through the foreskin, continuing to swell and grow and twitch like never before. She caressed it. More

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