I reach my shaking fingers up to grasp his zipper before pulling it down and reaching inside to find his hard dick struggling to break free. I'd like to say that the tremor running through my fingers is due to nerves, but that would be a bald-faced lie. The moment my fingers encounter his throbbing member, the feeling of the soft skin that wraps around it entrances me as my mouth waters.
The memories this motion evokes are fresh in my mind, a fond remembrance that I struggle to shut down. Partially because I've been in this situation with this man more times than I can count and the motion is like riding a bicycle where he's concerned. Partially, because I don't want to.
Once it springs from it's confines, his cock stands tall, evoking a scene reminiscent of something the ancient greeks would have carved into marble. Its thick veins are taut against the skin as the tip is flush with a rosy hue, the color darkening the longer we sit.
