“I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help prepare for tonight’s party?” I stuttered, trying (but failing) to avert my gaze from her thighs. I could clearly see that she was wearing no panties beneath the pannier, which she nonchalantly lifted and placed on the table, making no attempt to close her legs. Her crotch was covered with a dark downy bush, which she idly stroked with the two middle fingers of one hand. Although I was eighteen, this was the first time (apart from my mother’s) that I had seen this most private of female places.“Be an angel and fetch me a glass of water, would you Nicholas? I’m parched. And then come and sit beside me.”I did as instructed and drew up a chair.“Would you like to stroke my pussy?” she whispered after draining the glass. “It’s quite safe; Ned won’t be home for hours.” I froze in my seat, unable to speak or move.“Here, let me help you.” She reached across and took my hand, placing it onto her swollen mound. “When you have stroked it. He was so gentle! And so skillful! Even though her friends had told her what a stud the young man was, he was proving to be an even more masterful lover than she expected. Up and down her inner thighs his hands slid, insistent, searching. She leaned back and supported herself on her outstretched arms. ‘Please, Stacey!’ she murmured, ‘Touch me!!! Touch meeeee!!!’ Stacey did. Softly, gently, he touched her, his feather-light touch the silken material covering her vagina drove her wild. He slid the thin strip of cloth aside and began to stir his finger between her drenched, silken labia. Marlene’s hips began squirming on the smooth top of her desk. ‘I want to come, Stacey!!!’ she begged. ‘Please, Stacey, darling, make me come!’ She felt his warm breath on her, then his lips and tongue touched her center. She ached with need for him and, suddenly, bright lights of bliss began to flash in her mind as he burrowed his mouth against her vagina and his tongue began probing into her..
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