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Looking back over my should I wait to see what in the world you needed to ask me know. “What are you?"Wait… what? What the hell does that mean, I had been hoping for a yes or no question but no such luck.“Ummm… a girl?” I reply hesitantly.“Wrong,” you state biting me again. So this is the game, but what would be the reward for guessing correctly. Even if it took awhile to find that was okay, I love the feel of your teeth as they mark my skin.“How about who’s are you?” You’ve rephrased the question which now makes sense.Smiling to myself I answer on a whisper, “Yours.”As you bite down again I wonder how I was wrong; “That’s right…mine. But you didn’t answer properly. So try again, yours…. what?”“Yours, sir,” I reply.“That’s my good girl… I‘m going to make you cum now,” you praise as you slide a finger into my pussy wet from your mouth and my own need. Pumping first one finger then two into me I moan as I ride your fingers like I want to ride you. After a few minutes of torture your. " Hey," I answered, "with just the two of us, you don't need anything. I always go in my 'birthday' suit. The water feels so much better that way. In fact, that's what I'm going to do right now." I got up from my lounge chair and started to strip."Come on, Maria, nobody's going to see us and Pete won't be home for a long time.She hesitated for a few minutes, the time it took me to get naked. "Well, if you don't mind, then I will". She was somewhat bashful, even though I was standing there nude, she turned her back to me and quickly divested herself of her shorts and tee shirt. Surprisingly, she wore no underwear.By that time I was in the pool, splashing about. When she turned and started down the steps into the pool, I could see that Pete had been wrong about her 'bush'. While I have a completely bare pussy, Maria had a small, neatly trimmed tuft of black just above her labia. I was beginning to wonder about her sexuality...to wonder what she might 'taste' like. Oh, I was having very.
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The only really recognizable features are the computer on a table beside my desk and the ‘guest’ chair is in front of my desk. Sandy brought her lunch and seductively settled her lovely self in the chair so I could soak in her warmth and beauty. It was so tempting to close the door, even lock it, but the office wags would have had a field day. It was going to be bad enough with the occasional passerby, but we had no choice. Lunch, itself, could have been uneventful, as sound would carry so we had to keep our voices low whenever we spoke of relevant things, like love and sex and the like, however, I found that there was just enough room beneath the desk modesty shield for me to read her feet. A strategically placed box helped to cover up the erotic fondling that was to occur. During one particularly passionate, albeit, low-voiced exchange about the charms of sexual intercourse, I accidentally bumped into her foot with mine. The result was not unexpected when a humongous size 13.

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