I’m no Hemingway but it pays the bills.”“Man, that’s what I want to do, be a writer.”“Just stick with it. It takes some time, but it’s a... mostly great life. What do you write?”“Right now, just some stories and shit, you know.”“That’s a start. If you like, I’ll read some of it and give you some pointers.”“Really? That would be great!”“Tell you what.” I looked at my watch. “What time do you get off?”“Five.”“Okay, why don’t you run home and get your stories and come over to my place around six.. She just came to the couch and sat beside me, this time even closer. Her arm was touching my thighs. The smell of her hair was intoxicating me so I put my hands behind her over her shoulder and touched her hair. It was wet. I told her about the fragrance of her hair and touched it and played with her hair for a minute. I moved my head to her hair and smelled it and asked her which shampoo she was using. We chatted for 10 minutes with my hands was still over her shoulder. Then she put her hands. With every swipe of her tongue across my vagina I felt like my body was leaving the earth and entering some other dimension. She licked and caressed my labia with an eagerness that felt like she really enjoyed what it was doing to me. I could feel the folds of skin flipping and rolling to the left and right as her mouth moved deftly around my nether places.I realized I was tightening my legs around her head, so I tried to let them loosen and fall farther open. But, the spasms were. Why I asked? She then went on to explain that a new chap had starting in the office in her team and she had noticed he was paying a lot of attention to her feet. She was certain he was into feet as she had been a bit naughty and teased him with dangling her heels which everytime she did it he would look. She said it was quite exciting having that much control. Her telling me this was driving me wild and I needed to know more. Apparently his name was Dean and he was 41 years old, my girlfriend.