She could wear a grimy old potato sack to Paris fashion week and still be the star of the show.Amara crawled up the bed and straddled my lap. Her hand... rested on my shoulders while her ass pressed into my lap. She moaned and wiggled her hips, rubbing against my erection. I slid my hands up her stocking clad thighs and under her skirt to cup her ass.“So, tell me all about the morning. I want to know everything,” she said.I squeezed her perfectly peachy ass, encouraging her to rock in my. I don't know..." I stammered."You don't know?"Somehow, miraculously, my mind hit upon a suitable lie. "We're playing hide-and-seek," I said.She laughed good-naturedly. "I'd say you're a little too old for those games, but last night Sarah went on and on about how you have the imagination of a child. I mean that in only the best of ways, of course. So I guess you like to play those kinds of games too. Sometimes I wish Sarah was still a little girl so I could play games like that with her. Maybe. More

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