I tell you to take a seat on the edge of the bed, indicating with a gesture that I mean the corner. I pull a chair up, and take a seat opposite you, only a foot or so away.
“Show me your panties” I say. I feel the thrill of the moment rushing into cock, as it begins to harden against the inseam of my jeans.
You nod, and slowly, with expert showmanship, grab the hem of your skirt on either side of your thighs and pull it up, revealing white cotton. You push your legs more apart for effect.
“Make them wet.’ I order. You press a hand against your crotch and molest yourself in a circular motion. I feel my cock throb. I can see the hint of skin and thick black pubic hair showing through the growing dampness of the cloth. I slide out of the chair and onto my knees for a closer look.
I’m close enough to smell your arousal, to hear the sound of your wet lips crushing under your increasingly firmer rubbing. I place a hand on the inside of each thigh and force your legs open.