She had a habit of reaching with her right hand, under her left breast into her left arm pit as she was talking with me. This served to push her breas... up and in, accenting the visible cleavage. I was powerless; I had to stare. Often, I suspected, she didn't wear a bra. Sometimes when I'd give her a hug, I'd be sure of it. She was chief among my illusionary women and an active masturbation fantasy. Her dark-eyed serious stare was often interpreted by me as representing her knowledge of my. "A look of surprise grazed his face. He smiled, breathed deeply. I was deeply nervous and wanted to cry. He looked deeply into my eyes. I looked down to avoid his eyes. As I was doing so, I looked as his crotch. I gasped. His cock had become erect. Half of it exposed itself out of his briefs. A strong hand brought my cheek upwards. I was met with a tender kiss and a smile from him. "I want to please you Helen." He came over at my knees. His fingers rubbed the fabric covering my pussy as he. More

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