DriveSouth
Lepidopterist
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2000
- Posts
- 2,909
I tried to hide us from the windows of the dorm that stood adjacent to the public playground we had wandered to. An old unused drainpipe provided cover.
Passionately, we kissed. I held her tightly as our bodies pressed against one another as we stood there in the dim light of the street light. Our bodies, hot with lust, served as both stimulated and stimuli. Our hands felt, explored one another, palms pressed, fingers danced till both were afire with desire.
From her face, my hands followed the contours of her neck, her shoulders and down her arms, a ripple of her biceps, the curve of her elbow, hair, soft as whispers blanketed her forearms, her fingers entwined with my very own and embraced each one.
Slowly I moved her hands from our sides, up till I brought them together between her covered breast. I paused briefly. Then with fingers interlocked, I softly lifted her hands and brushed her face with my fingers, like a painter applying accent strokes.
Her hands followed mine, brushing her face, then feeling the silkiness of her hair. I pressed on, higher, lifting her hands gently above her head, pressing them together and against the drainpipe.
Then it came, her surrender, like a fugitive from justice, her hands raised, surrendered…
Sorry gang, I had to do that just to get my point across -
How many of you ladies feel like this? How many of you melt when you stand/lay there, arms raised, vulnerable, surrendered…
Please ladies; give me insight on this.
Passionately, we kissed. I held her tightly as our bodies pressed against one another as we stood there in the dim light of the street light. Our bodies, hot with lust, served as both stimulated and stimuli. Our hands felt, explored one another, palms pressed, fingers danced till both were afire with desire.
From her face, my hands followed the contours of her neck, her shoulders and down her arms, a ripple of her biceps, the curve of her elbow, hair, soft as whispers blanketed her forearms, her fingers entwined with my very own and embraced each one.
Slowly I moved her hands from our sides, up till I brought them together between her covered breast. I paused briefly. Then with fingers interlocked, I softly lifted her hands and brushed her face with my fingers, like a painter applying accent strokes.
Her hands followed mine, brushing her face, then feeling the silkiness of her hair. I pressed on, higher, lifting her hands gently above her head, pressing them together and against the drainpipe.
Then it came, her surrender, like a fugitive from justice, her hands raised, surrendered…
Sorry gang, I had to do that just to get my point across -
How many of you ladies feel like this? How many of you melt when you stand/lay there, arms raised, vulnerable, surrendered…
Please ladies; give me insight on this.
