I don't need to tell you that. You know that as a fact. I grope your ass. "You question my taste?" I go faux haughty. "You're the only beachbum for me..." I speak, my breath of words a waft of exotic perfume.You slap back at my hands. "Enough! Back to work. Back to skin." Your slaps are unaimed; as fast as my hands move, you are mostly slapping at your own ass.I stay away, my fingers sliding downwards to the purity of flesh. You stop your batting and eventually relax, settling against the towel,. ” I thanked her and mentioned how much I appreciated the support. “Would you like to grab some food with me,” she asked. I was immediately overcome with nervousness. While I had hoped for a situation to present itself for us to go out, the me in my head was much better at communicating than the real me. I stammered out a, “Uh yeah. I’d definitely like that. Just give me a few minutes to freshen up.” She drove us to the local late night spot in which was of course crowded. While we waited to be. More

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