Tourists walk by Glance in the window i wave Sorry we’re closed sign hangs in the window They walk on byYour back Now mr naughty estate agent I want you to get over here while I peal off your shirt And that tie take it OffWe’re kissing I slip off your tieNow Tie me up tease me with your tounge slide ice cubes over my clit fuck me with your hard ice cold lolly pop When your calippo begins to melt I want you to lick off the sticky orange juices teasing me further with your slippery wet tongueYou happily obligeYou taste of ice cold oranges sweet and juicyThat tongues sliding absolutely everywhere Your stubble with just a few days growth feels amazing brushing against my skinYour teasing my nibbles with a strawberry Calippos The occasional flick of your warm wet tongueAnd your lips covering my nipples whilst your sucking I’m pretty wet Your sliding the strawberry calippo over my clit rubbing it softly making me wetter & sticky your warm tongue slaps down making me groan You untie me I. He was naked, as usual. There was a towel lying on the floor next to the mattress. He had an erection.“I think you were dreaming ... about me. Bobby, I could feel your dream.”“Feel it?”“I felt your hand on my side. Do you remember dreaming?”“I have lots of dreams,” he said.“Do you remember any about me?” I asked.There was too much silence between the time I finished asking the question and his reply of, “No.”I knew he was lying. But ... I also knew how difficult it would be for a boy - he was suddenly a boy again - to admit to a woman that he had dreams about her - erotic dreams, based on how his hand had felt. Again, there was very little evidence, but it had been a caress, not just his hand accidentally resting on my side. I decided to go the middle road.“Well, it was interesting,” I said. “I’m sure it was you. I’m not surprised you don’t remember. I read somewhere that we don’t remember most of what we dream about. Anyway, what I felt was your hand, touching me here.”I put my hand.
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