In The Palm Of Her Hand
“I never wear underwear and I almost never wear pants. You never know when a good shot of p***y will come in handy.” Her deep melodious voice held him captive as it always did. She sat with her red knit dress hiked high on her long firm thighs, no hose, no stockings, no slip, just tanned lean flesh. With her legs crossed there was not an inch of her outer leg that didn't show.
Jerome Sebastian would have liked to trace his finger along the line of her leg, from her knee to where the fabric of her skirt ended, lifting it up just another inch or two, to gaze at the soft brown bush between her legs. He would never forget the sight of that perfect mound, exquisitely formed, and carefully shaved to create a titillating tan line. She wore little more than a tiny t
