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His light, fleeting touch hasawakened my sensitive nipples, and they cry out for more. mature fucking Free-mature-nude-pics. I archmy back toward his mouth, but he has already moved on to otherplaces. A drop of wine on the soft underside of my arm. A almost-tick-ling lick along my navel. mature fucking Mature nylons galleries. A wet trail along the crease where mythigh meets my body. Each touch a brief spark that awakens andarouses a new part of my body, just enough to tease but notenough to satisfy. He licks a trail of red off of my inner thigh, and I can't con-tain my gasp. mature fucking Mature-mistress. My whole body feels alive, itching for his touch. I want him to lick up, up, to move his tongue between my legs,but he's gone again, standing next to the bed, watching myflushed form on the bed. I look up at him, pleading with myeyes, Robert, Robert, touch me. . . "How can I resist those eyes?" he asks, with mock mournfulness. "You don't really want me to finish yet, do you?" My body criesyes, but at the same time I savor the delicious frustration, andI know the answer. The question is rhetorical. Robert goes tothe dresser by the bed, and returns with another broad band ofsoft purple silk, like the ones that bind my wrists and ankles. This one he drapes across my eyes, then lifts my head and ties itexpertly in place. The removal of vision heightens my other senses. I become awareof the sound of cars in the distance, and the wind in the treeoutside the window. I become aware of the smell of Robert andthe smell of me. I smile and relax, delighting in hypersensitiv-ity of my body and the feeling of anticipation. I am not disappointed. Robert starts touching me again, return-ing to the top of my body. He strokes my face with his fingers,and his touch is firmer now, more demanding, more satisfying.
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