Oh holy god. *pants*
He idly knocked the ice in his empty scotch glass from side to side for a moment, seeming to consider what the man’s wife had just said, and then leaned back, dropping his hand around my waist. Too late I realized what he was doing as a wet finger slid under the waistband of my pants and found it’s way with deadly accuracy to my hole.
Guhhhhhh. And then it only got hotter from there.
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B/J PWP Writing Challenges
secretsolitaire (secretsolitaire) wrote in bj_action on September 23rd, 2007 at 06:30 pm