The sexual tension filling the room turns the air viscous, as if the space was immersed in honey produced by lascivious bees. The flimsy g-string is m...king a very poor attempt at stemming the flow of your cunt juices, allowing them to freely run down your thighs and release their dizzying perfume. You are acutely aware of how the air strokes your every pore, the fiercely pumping blood pounding in your ears without drowning out the creaks of the floorboards as you track what seems to be his. Stan knocked on the shower stall door, and then opened it and peeked in. ‘Room for one more?’ he asked. Denise smiled at him, nodding and gesturing for him to join her. Stan took the soap laden sponge from her hand and washed her. If he seemed to pay special attention to her breasts, Denise didn’t mind. He moved the sponge lower, washing her abdomen, gliding it over her small belly roll. He moved lower still, soaping up her red-bronze pubic hair. Denise sighed, closing her eyes for a moment,. More

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