Martina allowed herself a little smirk and turned to Ben.“A hot one?”“Eh? I mean the weather.”She turned and looked at him, as she plunged the rod on the cafetière and then gazed down at his bare chest and well defined arms.“You have nice konstrukce, Ben,” she said.“Construksi?”“Yes… svalstvo... muscles!”“Well, it’s the press ups, probably,” said Ben, pleased at the compliment.She placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and stroked his right biceps. Ben followed the contours of her thighs and bum and looked up at her and began to get the first hard-on of the morning.“I will make for you toast. You like marmalade?”Ben could have corrected her faulty grammar, but he actually liked the way she talked. It added to her appeal. Almost a week had passed since she had wanked him through his shorts, in her room. Since then she had continued her skilful flirtation and innuendo, which she disguised behind her faltering English. Neither of them had alluded to the incident. It had been. She could feel herself getting damp, and went over to the bed and lay on her back. Still holding the shirt, she explored herself with her free hand. She was getting wetter and wetter, and undid her waistband and slid her jeans and panties down around her ankles. She spread her legs and gently ran her hand up her inner thigh. When she came to her crotch, she paused slightly, letting her hand rest on her outer lips. Then she opened her hand flat, and lightly caressed the hair on her mound. Her breathing was becoming more and more ragged, as she took herself higher and higher. She placed her hand back on her crotch and slid her finger between her labia, where she was by now very wet, and gently moved it up to her clitoris. It was throbbing and hard, and she ran her finger up and down it, along the shaft at the upper left side. She moaned as she did. Moving faster and faster with her hand, she soon felt the familiar clenching of her abdomen. Her whole being seemed centered on her vagina,.
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