A pensive Miss Margie places her wine glass on a table. She removes her shoes. Roger is apprehensive with her silence. He watches as her skirt and undergarments are also discarded. Once again her puissant physicality impresses. There are feminine curves, though they seem to be molded in iron as opposed to Lilly’s frame of firm gelatin.
“You worked her quite nicely, Roger. Slow and easy. I’m sure you appreciated that the sensations for Lilly were close to self m**********n, just that flopping infused hood alone will bring waves of pleasure to her clitoris.”
As Miss Margie speaks, Roger gawks again. Well rounded, powerful upper thighs lead the male eyes to the feminine portal of desire. His p***s renews its attempt at emancipation from the guiche and Prince Albert ring. He grimaces. Miss M
