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had been built like a fireplug and he just couldn't imagine Mrs. Kempster ever wearing a sexy black stretch bra or a pair of those tight black satin hipsters. |
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Kyna still had not uttered a word. She held his attention with quick glimpses of her nipples and by slowly sliding her hands under the waistband of her panties. She moved like a snakefluid and loosedancing to the charmer's flute. As she continued to gyrate, a fine sheen of musk formed on her body and ran down her belly and flanks like liquid diamonds. |
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At last the music stopped. |
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Kyna stood dead still in the middle of the room, opened her eyes and stared a challenge straight at Cyrus. By this time, he was in a semi-swoon of lust and hyperventilation. Aside from being positive that he had never been so aroused in his entire life, he was afraid that if he so much as took a breath, he'd explode. And she knew it. She gave him a tiny smile, turned her backgiving him a full view of her tight buttocksunhooked her bra and let it slideas slow as cold molassesdown her arms to the floor. Still bent over, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pushed them to the floor. |
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"Kyna!" he growled. His mouth felt like the floor of Death Valley. |
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She straightened and gave him a cool look over her shoulder. "Yes?" |
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The teasing, little-girl voice did little to quiet his blood. |
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"If you don't come over here right this minute, I'm going to come over there and rape you where you stand." |
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"Oh?" She batted her eyes. "All of a sudden you're interested in little ole me?" |
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Turning, she gave him the full frontal view of her lush hills and valleys. It was a truly awe-inspiring landscape. |
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She cupped her breasts, juggling them slightly as if she were evaluating the size and weight of a pair of ripe melons. "This what you want, lover?" |
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