” She touched the fabric of her skirt and tugged her tee shirt forward. “You must know what clothes are.” “No. I’ve never seen things like ...that before. They must feel very strange on you.” Eve smiled and knelt down next to Rhonda and stroked the soft cotton fabric of the dress by where Rhonda had just been masturbating. “Are you shitting me? Is this some kind of weird nudist colony or something? Where the fuck am I?” Eve was slightly puzzled by Rhonda’s linguistic expressions, but she smiled. Then I ran the warm water in the sink and got out some shaving cream and a fresh razor.In case you’ve never shaved a woman, it’s a delicate process, calling for trust, patience and a steady hand. It’s a great trust-building exercise... caressing, smooth shave strokes, probing and testing, followed by washing, drying, and tonguing till that little clit quivers. Once done, I carried her into my bedroom, placing her gently across my bed. I inquired,” Do you enjoy a man going down on you?”“More. Lowering his head he commenced moving his mouth from side to side as his lips started plucking on her nipples like a master harpist. Simultaneously his thumb entered her pussy and began to dart about like the digit of a top jazz double bass player.Nancy’s body swayed with lust as Mac primed her. Next, after her body was turned around, his large hand shrouded her pussy. Mac’s fingers now began to work like a bow during the allegro climax of a violin concerto. A flood of memories came back to him. Her breath was sweet, by taste and smell, from the gum she had been chewing. I slid my hands down to her backside, up and under, and lifted her. She squeaked in joking manner when I picked her up unexpectedly. We both giggled. She rubbed my arms as I carried her to the bed. She always loved my arms. In fact, she bought me a pair of those black forearm grips for Christmas one year. I obliged and have since gone nowhere without those grips. As a result, my forearms look like Popeye’s, defined.