#64245 - I moved to his hip, pulling hard on his hip bone, sliding my fingerstips into the crevice between the hip bone and abdomen as he slid his hand up my thighs. Do you know what that was about, he asked? I believe he made a pass at me, I said softly. I often imagined I was his girlfriend, noting how he touched them, how his hands would massage their neck, back, legs, and even chest when I would sneak a peek to discreetly catch them in some sort of torrid passion.
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