"Oh, god, that feels good."Still his tongue avoided the tip, rolled around and around it instead, almost touching, then dipped downward and plunged into her again, pushing and reaching, then slid out and upward to roll around and around the path that circled her clit. She tried to guide his tongue with her hips, reaching for it, wanting it against her there. His hands, which were on either side of her pussy, holding her open to his attack, pressed down and forward, pinning her to the floor and preventing her from succeeding. Instead, he dropped downward, avoiding what she wanted. He pushed his tongue into her again, slathered it inside her like a blind, slimy thing slipping and sliding in their mixed juices as it discovered her shape by feel.And then he moved forward suddenly and dragged the rough velvet of his muscular tongue right across the most exquisitely sensitive top of her button. Her entire body jerked like she'd been punched in the middle, and her hands flew down to bury in. So my jeans and big sweater got an enthusiastic thumbs down from her( it was the late 80's in my defense). She poured me a drink( strong-yikes) and started digging through her closet. She came out with a short plaid skirt and a sightly sheer white shirt. I figured what the heck and started to change into the outfit. But apparently my panties were also the wrong choice as she dubbed them "granny panties". She went and dug around in my drawer and found my one thong. I was next told that a black bra under my shirt would be best and she finished me off with some very red lipstick. Oh and my shoes were "lame" so i'm wearing her ankle breaking heels. I think she must have missed playing with dolls. In looking in the mirror, i did not exactly recognize the person staring back at me. Although, the very strong vodka and lemonade may have played a part. She poured a round of tequila shots and we were off. I'm thinking she's getting me a little drunk but who cares it's Friday.it's fortunately a.
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