And your ass presses harder still against my cock. A Chinese word. I don’t understand. Could you be saying, “Oh God”? Could it be “Stop”? I ...esitate but your hand flies down to mine, covering it and you stroke yourself with my fingers. The little button, like a tiny cock, pulsates, rises, demands attention. And when I touch you again, your juices flow freely over my fingers. “My mouth is dry,” you murmur. “Do you want water?” “No, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” Your knees part slightly in. I locked all the doorsand pulled the shades down, to ensure no one could see inside thehouse. I snuck quietly to the basement, as if someone was around tohear me.I opened the dryer and pulled out a collection of old curtains andsheets stored in there. Underneath was my stash. Lying there looking soinnocent and tempting was the pink dress I had managed to buy at a yardsale just the week before. I pulled it out and sat it on a nearbycoffee table. Looking back into the dryer I could see the. More

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