Glancing at the clock, it was barely eight o’clock, nearly eleven back home, and she debated calling him back. Fuck it, this one’s for me…She parted her pussy lips with her middle finger, and hissed as she inserted it and started to finger herself again. Going to two fingers, she went more slowly this time, fucking herself with care and deliberate slowness, imagining it was Dan’s cock thrusting inside her in time to her breathing. The ball of her thumb was on her clit, and she moved it in a circular motion, letting her fingers take their cue from it. Her juices were flowing again, and maybe hadn’t stopped, and the warm, slippery fluids were the perfect lubricant.Her left hand crept up her tummy to her full, luscious breasts, running first her fingertips then her whole palm with exquisite slowness over her still erect nipples. Jenny moaned a little now, not as loudly as she had for Dan, and yearned for his touch, his tongue and cock teasing her, playing with her, fucking her all day.. Anne let her blouse slip off her shoulders and down her arms before tossing it on to a nearby chair. She swiftly removed her bra and her proud breasts quivered as she also lobbed that garment on to the chair. Darren, his gaze firmly on Anne’s chest, unbuckled his belt as she stepped towards him and laid both hands on his broad chest. Her pink-painted nails, drew patterns around his nipples, down over his ribs and round to his stomach and navel. His pants slithered down his legs to pool at his ankles. Anne took a pace backwards and looked at Darren’s pale blue boxers and the bulge on the left side. “Right, Darren,” she said softly. “Take everything off except those shorts. Leave them for me.” Darren managed to find his voice. “Yes, madam,” he said and stooped to remove his shoes, socks and trousers. Anne sat on the edge of the bed, watched and waited, her fingers toying with her aroused nipples. She knew her pussy was already moist but resisted feeling beneath her skirt as Darren.
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