I smile apologetic. "Yeah, that's really good."
He furrows his brow. “Romance?”
“Yep.”
He approaches my hip with a sliding hand. "Tell me more about it."
"Okay," I say. I'm now reading the novel for the second time, and I was reading this particular Chapter the night Jacob entered my room. Even though I've moved beyond my favorite portion today, I still tell him about it.
Mary nudges me to widen my legs, and he touches my p***y through my clothes while I speak about the scene when the lady is bound and blindfolded.
He comments, "That sounds way better than the romance about the man who needed a haircut," and I grin as I recall how we first connected. Please elaborate.
As I describe the situation in further detail, his hand slithers into my shorts, where he stimulates my c**t with
