We're sitting on your couch when you notice I look stressed out; I'm rubbing my neck and I have that look on my face that I get when something's bothering me.
"What's wrong, baby?" you ask, trying hard not to be distracted by my skin-tight tank top and short shorts that reveal my soft, alluring thighs.
"Nothing, my neck just kind of hurts," I reply with a meek smile.
"How 'bout a massage?" I nod and turn around to lay down on the couch, when I instead suggest that we go to your bedroom, as it would be more comfortable. I get up and make my way to your room, your eyes glued to my bouncing butt and swiveling hips as you silently thank whoever created these denim shorts that let my cheeks spill out the bottoms. Upon arriving to your room, I take off my top, revealing to you a lacy black bra that cradles my tits perfectly, as well as slide off my shorts, allowing you to watch me struggle to get them off over my plump, round ass to unveil a matching lacy, black thong. I lay down on my stomach, and look at you.