Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357
“Let me oil you up.” It wasn’t a question, but I wouldn’t have disagreed anyhow. I didn’t mean to sway back against him, but something in his tone pulled me in. My ass met his thighs, and my back felt the warmth of his chest. My head nodded, and his hands smoothed over my hips and up my sides. I was wearing my favorite bubblegum pink bikini with a black lacey cover-up over it. It did nothing to actually cover my body but made me feel less naked.
Alfy’s fingers burned a hot trail as he moved them to my shoulders and peeled the cover-up back. This was the first time he’d undressed me, and the moment felt so heavy and dangerous. There would be no going back once we crossed this line. The Vegas sun felt like a spotlight on our inappropriate relationship. The Wet N Wild crowd took no notice of the careful line we’d been toeing. When he made a small approving sound in the back of his throat, I thanked my lucky stars that Randi couldn’t make this trip.
This post is for the Coach. Just because your the teacher or leader of how to play the game does not mean you get to play with the referee. We don’t play we judge and are here to call out your bad moves. So let me coach you on a few things. I learned to stay on the side lines of the game because I’m not a player I don’t need to play to win. Players have to put in practice and practice to test their skills against others and hope that they are better.
