Just watching her, I automatically began polishing the Bishop in long, satisfying strokes, praying that I wouldn't pop the cork too soon.Just watching her, I automatically began polishing the Bishop in long, satisfying strokes, praying that I wouldn't pop the cork too soon. Andrea just watched me, more fascinated than aroused. Between concentrating on the task at hand, the incredible feeling surging through my swollen balls and my frequent glances at Andrea's magnificent tits, I could barely speak. When I finally found the breath and strength to speak, I looked at her and gasped, "aren't you supposed to be doing something, too?" Andrea smiled seductively at me and whispered, "what makes you think I'm not?" As she spoke, she lifted her long, stockinged legs over the arms of the chair and I glanced down at her pussy. The sheer white triangle of nylon covering her cunt was soaking wet. I almost lost it right there. I had to squeeze the base of my cock and hold it for an eternity to keep from squirting. Andrea noticed what I was doing and grinned. She closed her eyes and began massaging her tits, seductively moving her hands to her nipples and squeezing them awake between her fingers. As big as her nipples were "at rest", they grew even more prodigious beneath her fingers, rising like two crimson red thumbs as her areolas constricted into smaller circles. She momentarily lost her breath and, shuddering, licked her lips to moisten them. |