My body is calm. My mindstate drifts close to what feels like sleep. I am teetering on the edge of consciousness, melting further into this cloud that... cradles me.“Let all those naughty fantasies seep from your mind. The sensual, arousing images that swirl around your head all day.” Her voice grips me. “Feel the fabric of your clothes as they lightly kiss your skin, feeding that reverie.” I swallow hard, fighting back a moan.“Accept those erotic thoughts; nasty, taboo visions.” Her tone is still. Middle of the night, no makeup, disheveled chin length wavy blonde and brown hair, slight bags under her eyes. And yet gorgeous. Tight white tank top showing her loose breasts beneath, hanging naturally, sagging slightly but only because she's slightly on the bigger side, and full of milk. Nipples clearly pronounced, poking at the fabric. Her gray little shorts showing her entire length of long legs and thighs. I inspect every angle of her in the mirror, without taking off clothes, trying to. I was tired, which usually happens after you have a sensuous evening with someone. I retired to bed, the next morning I could not get up to go for a walk and not surprisingly Dash was at my doorstep asking for my well being.I invited him in and asked him to relax. While he was there I went in to refresh myself. I got out in less than ten minutes and we both started walking. Our morning walks continued normally but the talks were more erotic than ever. He used to ask me to invite some of my. She couldn't believe the girl in the black wig and makeup playing the role of the heroine of the second sexual revolution was her own freckle faced little sister.Becky pantomimed as the narrator read the opening sentences of the children's classic that set the scene for "O's" stirring initiation into Rosey. Then she was forced to her knees and the women in the audience let out a collective gasp when the size of her partners' shafts became apparent. Becky howled beautifully as the first entered.