Leaning back I Admired my work — and her breasts. They now seemed fuller, lovely and white with a pink pinnacle on each of them. I brushed them with my hands again, but this time my hands drifted lower. Her mons was silky smooth and my hand just glided over it and onto her mound. I could feel her flinch slightly as my hand rubbed across her lips and it seemed to me that her pussy was closed up tight, no arousal apparent.
I stoked her down there. The heel of my hand would rub firmly against her mons, pressing up against her pubic bone, then slide back over her mound, rubbing it lightly, stroking it, encouraging her to relax. It took time but she did start relaxing, finally to the point where I could slip a finger between her lips. But only the one. She tightened up as soon as I intruded.
By now I was at a loss. She’d said OK, she’d helped me get her undressed, she was permitting liberties, but she was tense and seemed confused. Didn’t her husband believe in foreplay? Still, she was slowly getting aroused. Nothing I could do but carry on. I couldn’t help but think everything was going to fizzle out before I got too far.
Seeing she was a little relaxed I sank to my knees, my mouth coming up against her pussy, my tongue darting out and starting to tease her.
“What are you doing?” she asked in what I can only describe as a scandalized shriek. I pulled my head back a little and looked up at her.
“Just a little oral foreplay,” I said with a wink. “Doesn’t your husband do it?”
She shook her head.
“Well, consider what it feels like. If you like it you can ask him to do the same sort of thing.”
“Ask him? Oh, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t,” she muttered.
Why the hell not? That’s what husbands are for.
I bent my head (and tongue) back to its duty. I tasted and teased and probed, and I could feel her relaxing more and more. It shouldn’t take much more and she’d be ready to move on with the game. I guess my tongue must have moved a little too close to her clitoris because she suddenly screamed and pushed my head away.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“What did you do?”
“Mm. Just touched near your clitoris, is all,” I told her. “Like this.”
I bent my head back and my tongue touched the same spot, eliciting the same scream, but this time she just clutched my hair tightly, not trying to push me away. A third touch and she shrieked, “No. Don’t,” but now she was holding my head in place. Conflicting signals so I went with the one I wanted. My tongue flicked out again and she screamed again. She was so near a climax it wasn’t funny.
I pulled away and stood up.
“Why’d you stop?” she wanted to know.
“Who said I’ve stopped?” I asked, undoing my trousers.
My trousers dropped and my jocks followed. Yvonne’s eyes dropped to my groin and she started looking nervous, swallowing air hastily.
“Y-you want a bed now?” she asked, and I could hear her nervousness in her voice.
“Why?” I asked. “Here’s as good as anywhere else. Better than some places. Just lean back against the bench.”
I pushed her back against the bench, encouraging her legs further apart. She automatically put her hands on the bench behind her to prop herself up. She could now look down the length of her body to her pussy and my cock which was adjacent to it.