Your hand had freed itself and was moving down my chest to my stomach. With caution and intimidation the freed hand slowed as it was passing my stomac...h. It felt wonderful to feel the tips of your fingers as they pressed to touch each ridge of my stomach muscles, but why were they shy now after such passion and fervor? The hand was timid and unsure.As if to give your freed hand permission, my fingers stopped tracing the outsides of you and without your permission one finger ventured into your. He was roughly the same height as her, hairy legs, hairy chest that was maybe 46" and a nice trim 34" waist. Then I saw his ass, perfectly molded within those leather shorts, and did it ever look firm. He went over by the window, and as I thought of burying my face in his ass, she cleared her throat," Humhh, here's you book back, I hope I did it right." It took two attempts to get the book from her hands, I just couldn't take my eyes off of his ass. He reached back and scratched one cheek, "I'd. He was younger (she guessed early-thirties) and definitely better looking. She’d caught herself checking his hand for a wedding ring one day and feeling some unexpected tingles between her thighs when she’d noticed that he didn’t have one. Her fantasy had life, indeed… The current session rolled on, and before long the class reached their break, which was about twenty minutes for ‘lunch’ at the midpoint. Rachel was glad for it today. Between her thoughts about Josh and her intermittent. Her wetness is inches from of his face, glistening and aromatic. He looks at it. She can't hide it. "Your cunt is wet, my Love. You should be ashamed." And the stroking starts. Coaxing the clit to swell, then avoiding it. She knows from long experience with his spankings that there is always warning before being spanked. One hand holds her, the other pleasures her. Always it is the hand that pleasures that also punishes. There can not be punishment unless that hand leaves her sex...He lifts his.