Your rough hands move down to my skirt, tugging it off. My thong is still on me. You leave it. It’s not important enough to take off. It adds to the...fun. Your arms wrap around my legs and your fingers slide over my thong just before your lips meet mine. You give a soft moan as you kiss me and it drives me wild. My fingers reach down to run through your hair. I’m not pulling you towards me, I’m not holding you in place. My fingers are simply in your hair. You slyly look up at me to meet my gaze.. Ah, the thrill of promises. When we boarded our flight to Berlin my wife was in the middle seat and I was on the aisle. The problem began then. The man occupying the window seat was Holger Miens. He was from California where he had his own language academy and he looked it. His tan was dark, his clothes expensive and his demeanor practiced. In short, he looked a bit like George Hamilton. Unfortunately, he was attending the same conference as Nickole. Whereas I did not like the guy from the. More

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