The Art Of Fellatio
Though I think you’d be amazed at the sort of objects Jimmy thinks I could use to pleasure my pretty little pussy. Eventually the fight, the anger, the fire and brimstone abated; gradually the words became less and the plaintive little sobs made Pippa’s body shake as it pushed into mine. I’m not very comfortable with other peoples’ tears and not a natural soother but I did my best; freed my trapped hand so that I could softly intertwine my fingers with hers, pressed her face into the warmth of my chest, allowed my fingers to tease along the nape of her neck and used them to comb through the somewhat tangled mess of her hair. All the while my mouth emitted pleasantries and platitudes as I felt Pippa’s pretty flesh trembling against me, as she dampened the fine cotton of my blouse with her tears until I felt it sticking to my skin. At some point I kissed her; a soft, gentle peck atop her head as my fingers drifted along her quite prominent collar bone. Finally the sobbing stopped. ‘Excuse me. Excuse me! Excuse me!’ Greg was suddenly returned to reality, as the little old lady returned to squeeze past him again hitting him in the face with her hand bag. It was all he could do to stifle a stream of expletives. He sat in his seat enjoying the afterglow of his fantasy but a little seed of doubt crept into his mind. His life had been devoid of liaisons with women for nearly two years and he wondered if he’d remember what to do if the opportunity arose. The plane soon landed. The little old lady was the first to jump from her seat as the seat belt sign extinguished, again trampling over Greg as she fought to be the first to retrieve her luggage from the overhead locker. He was in no hurry and waited until the plane was largely empty before he removed his hand luggage from the locker and made his way down the steps to the tarmac. To his delight, the cute flight attendant was standing there saying goodbye to passengers. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, she.
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