I ran my hand down from her hips along the outside of her thighs. She instinctively parted her legs for me as I lightly ran my finger tips up along al...ong the inner part of her thighs. I could feel her passion rising in the way her tongue probed my mouth. As I slowly let my hand settle onto her crotch, I felt her body begin to tremble in response to my touch. Her pants were already damp. There was no rush. I took my time, letting her excitement keep building, and soon her hand was feeling its. "But, I don't think there's going to be any question."Tiffany's time was a 2:57, compared to over five minutes for Mears.Mark let out a whistle. "Hell, that's ten seconds better than our best time with five dogs." Uh, Greg," Mike said. "I think we sorta screwed up a little. When Tiffany raced last weekend, we had a hundred pounds of ballast in her sled to even things out. I think maybe we should have done it again."Mears shook his head. "It's not going to matter that much. It might add a few. Mingled with sexual exhilaration, and pain would fuel her own pleasure.Everyone had already left the garage as Gabriella cleaned her hands. The organ cleaner felt good and smelled good. Most of the grease came out but there was still a thick layer under her fingernails. Holding her hands out she turned them over, curled her fingers toward the palms then held them out viewing them, “Damn, don’t look like a girl’s mitts at all.”She pulled her bomber jacket from hook, walked out of the garage,. I love that ‘take two’ moment when a guy first realises that I might not be wearing a bra and then the process by which he tries to work out whether I am or I am not. They can’t help themselves. Trying, but failing, not to stare. Trying to maintain eye contact whilst speaking to me but constantly glancing down at my chest. Trying to manoeuvre into a position where he can see down my top. Sometimes I make it easy for them; sometimes I make it hard (oops – pun!). I never tire of it! It doesn’t.