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I moan as he pushes them deep into my soft, warm insides. And then slowly, he grabs the sides of my leggings and pulls them AND my panties down to my ankles. “Tell him I’m giving you a better massage, than he ever could,” instructs my coach as I pant and moan back to him in acceptance. I start typing:*Sorry! His hands feel way too good . . . I’m going to be much longer. * I type back to my boyfriend and Mr. Johnson spreads his fingers apart slightly inside my pussy, stretching me. I send the message and my coaches hand begins to excite me even more. “Good girl,” he whispers to me, bringing my head closer to his. I moan with my mouth hanging wide open and I feel my soaked pussy contract on his fingers.He pulls me to him and kisses my open mouth, sucking my lips and tongue while my brain goes blank. My tight cunt is feeling so good, and I know he’s going to make me have an orgasm very soon.“I’m close,” I moan to him . . . as his two fingers open and close deep inside me, stretching me. I pushed into her mouth, my tongue met hers, I caressed it and slowly she responded. Then she let go, her tongue pushing to meet me, her lips now crushed harder to mine.My hand behind her, reached beneath her suit top, exploring the smoothness of her skin. The rate of her breathing was now much more rapid, she was almost gasping for breath. I reached between our bodies, finding the buttons of her top. She didn't offer a protest as I began to unfasten them. Then my hand reached inside to her breast. She was wearing the flimsiest of bras, the material so thin, it was almost like feeling her bare flesh.Her nipple was growing, stiffening under the pull of my fingers. She moaned into my mouth, leaning back against the tree behind her. My other hand dropped down her back until I cupped a cheek of her ass. It was quite firm to my feel when I squeezed. Once again there was no protest as I gripped her skirt, pulling it upwards. Now, the back of her panties was under the palm of my hand. I.
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‘Well,’ he says. ‘That’s very nice of them, but I’m not sure if it’s their opinion that matters to me.’ He looks straight at me and somehow makes my smile even wider. Even when I’m a mess on legs he still manages to make me smile. Before I can open the door, he snuffs out his cigarette and lays a hand on my shoulder. ‘Leave the door open for me, okay?’ ‘What for?’ ‘I just want to grab something. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.’ I nod and he is off while I make my way into the studio. Once I’m there I set up my supplies and Alex is back within five minutes. He has two paper bags in hand and offers them both to me. ‘What’s this?’ I ask. ‘Breakfast.’ ‘You bought me breakfast?’ ‘Nothing cures a hangover like a good hearty breakfast, in my experience, and you look like you could use one.’ We haven’t even slept together (yet) and he’s already buying me breakfast. I might not be able to eat much of it, but I’m oddly moved by the thought. ‘That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.’ We sit.

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