Blade
Eki 20, 2023 // By:analsex // No Comment
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Noon.
The bright sun, subdued and mottled by the leaves overhead, splashed over and around them. A cool breeze blew up from the lake. She leaned back against the massive trunk.
They made an odd pair. The girl wore a white cotton tank top above blue jeans. The man was dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and fashionable red tie.
He leaned forward, too close for polite conversation, but refrained from touching her. She stole a glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was near enough to intrude upon their private moment. Only a jogger trotted across the bottom end of the park.
He pulled a pocket knife from his trousers and snapped open the blade. She grinned.
Her hips pushed forward and the hem of the tank top pulled up exposing an inch of pale flesh.
The knife moved between them and she held her breath as he placed the blade flat against her belly. The cold metal caused her stomach muscles to twitch. She tensed her diaphragm and held her breath. Slowly he rotated the blade until the sharpened edge rested feather İstanbul Escort light against her belly. Then he carefully scraped the blade like a razor across the flat of her stomach. Her forehead was moist but her throat was suddenly parched. The grin stayed plastered to her face but her eyes widened with a touch of fear.
The blade pulled away. She sucked in a gulp of air and felt moisture soaking into her panties.
A pause and then he undid the button at the top of her jeans. She gave another quick glance over his shoulder to see if anyone might be close enough to see, but the jogger was trotting away from them and the rest of the park was empty.
The opened button gave him just enough room to reach in and grab the elastic of her panties. His finger ran from the centre around to the right and stopped at her hip, then tugged at the fabric. The red silk pulled up out of the jeans. She shivered as the crimson tightened into her pink gash. Her insides melted, draining into the cloth.
He pulled the panties until Anadolu Yakası Escort he had dragged a loop of material out from the jeans and then, slipping the knife blade into the loop, cut through the cloth at the side seam. The pressure against her sex was released. Then he repeated the exercise on the left side.
She exhaled and stuck out her belly in an attempt to keep the cloth from retracting into the jeans.
He frowned and brought the sharp edge of the blade up to her stomach again. Instinctively, she sucked in her gut and held her breath. He reached into her jeans with the thumb and forefinger of his free hand and plucked the top of the panties, now loose between her legs and began to pull the remnant from her pants.
She felt the silk tighten, then drag along her slot and across her clitoris. A shiver, and then she tightened her thighs, hoping to hang on to the cloth. He continued to drag it, slowly, thread by thread, across her nub. Her knees weakened and she would have cut herself on the knife if he had Üsküdar Escort not reversed the blade and allowed the dull edge to press into her skin. She felt the steel line across her navel but the fire between her legs distracted her from the delicious danger of the open blade. A tiny spasm ran up the walls of her sex. Then another. She whimpered and clenched the muscles of her butt.
The moist crotch of the panties pulled free from the jeans and they both smelled her heat, fat and sweet. Then the rest of the cloth slipped free and he was holding the cherry remains of the panties in one hand, the knife in the other.
He snapped the knife shut and dropped it back into the pocket of his trousers. Then he carefully folded the damp remnant, then stuffed it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and arranged it so that just a flash of red peeked out like a silk handkerchief.
With a grin, he wished her a good afternoon and headed to a meeting with his client. Throughout the afternoon, the scent of fear and lust drifting up from his breast pocket kept him in a state of partial arousal. He was witty, urbane and most certainly in control.
She returned to her job at the bookstore, but the stiff seam of her jeans rubbed her bare sex at every move and kept her moist and distracted all afternoon.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32