‘Don’t say it, Jamie…. Bad timing…. OK.’ She said with a wide smile and we walked back to the house our arms around each other’s waists, just an affectionate aunt and her nephew. At least she hadn’t told me that she didn’t want me to say it…ever… just that the timing was wrong. I took the Polo and was home shortly after 11:30 pm. I had half expected the house to have been trashed after ten teenage girls had spent the night there alone, but Emma had obviously put an effort into making sure that everywhere was clean and tidy before they all left on Saturday morning. There was a stack of used tea and coffee mugs by the sink and I found the vacuum cleaner parked in the downstairs can but otherwise everything seemed good. The two spare bedrooms and Emma’s room had been stripped and the sheets and pillow cases put into the laundry room linen basket and so I loaded the washing machine and switched it on before making myself a cup of coffee and taking it up to my room and then showered and. He kissed on her soft lips, enjoying her increasingly fervent return kisses. He had passed the most crucial phase, the point where he needed to turn her on. He let his hands slide down her body to cup her breasts. She tensed as he caressed them through the fabric of her shirt, gasping softly when he squeezed a sensitive nipple. He ran his hands up and down her slender flanks, again brushing the swells of her breast, his thumbs teasing her now jutting nipples. She was wearing one of those lace bras which allow the nipple to stand firm on arousal. He stepped back to admire the sensual sight of her erect nipples urgently at attention, pushing the soft fabric of her blouse out. He bent his head down, his mouth closing over the fabric protected nipple. She threw her head back, moaning, as he mewled at her breasts, teasing and touching. He allowed his hands to wander further down her body, down around her slim hips. She was wearing a long silk skirt that accentuated her lithe body. This.
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