I bring my second hand up and roll my nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I then gently run my fingers along the underside of my breasts, enjoying...the sensation of my hands on my body, and the feeling of being watched. Dave has pulled his cock free from his boxers and is slowly stroking himself, pausing every now and then to run a hand up his own chest. He knows how much I love running my hand over his stomach as I go down on him. "If you were here, baby, what would you do?" he teasingly. The reminder of our moment on the cliff seemed to register on both of our faces, and we unconsciously took a few steps back from each other. He cleared his throat. ‘So…you plan on telling me what has got you so upset over the past couple of days? It wasn’t…me?’ he asked, changing the subject rather abruptly. Yes. ‘No,’ I lied. I realised that he wasn’t going to settle for one word answers. ‘It’s nothing, really. It’s not a problem any more. ‘It’s not Nate is it?’ he guessed. How was I going. More

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