I didn’t want to be an overbearing horn-dog and jump on her. “Why don’t we sit on the hammock?” I suggested. “It’s not as hard on the butt...cheeks.” I added. I also knew that it would push us together with no way to avoid touching each other. We both sunk into the hammock in a sitting position so my left arm and her right were pinned between use with nowhere to put our hands except on each others leg. We held hands with our first expression of touch our hands gripped and moved over one another. It was so hard to believe you were there. I held to you, fearing the moment I would awake from my dream. You caressed my cheek and ran light fingertips down my arm, watching chills raise on my skin. ‘No, sweetie, it’s not a dream,’ you breathed in reassurance, lightly kissing a water drop on my cheek to stop its descent. Time froze in the instant as you pressed me back onto the wet grass. Your lips found mine in a sensual caress as my body cradled yours like it always had. I ached for you and. Slowly moving my fingers closer to pelvic bone, then onward until I could start to feel some pubic hair. Unexpectedly I ran across no such hair. She was as soft and hairless as the rest of her body. God... She must be such a slut, I thought to myself as my bulge continued to grow.I gradually slid my hand further down, middle finger in the lead. Finally reaching its destination, I slowly began rotating my finger around the top of her pussy. As my finger continued to lower, I could feel a warm. She has a peculiar way of wearing a saree. She wraps it around her body such that each and every curve of her body can be marked distinctly. She was wearing the saree much below her navel. Her fair skin was all peeking out from beneath the saree – her creamy arms, her waist and one could clearly identify her deep navel from a distance itself. She carelessly raises her arms frequently exposing her armpits and spreading her wonderful aroma in the room. She asked me to help her in getting down her.
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