She wore no brassiere. She bent forward to let my hand invade the top but balked when I tried to undo the buttons. The water was cold despite the heat outside. The cloth floated off forgotten, and her hand traced tantalizing trails below my navel getting ever closer until it played in soft curls. The softness of her mouth on my own and the pungent taste of my juices on her gorgeous face lit fires of desire that I'd never felt before. A soft ding announced her arrival, breaking the silence in the car. The ache had been coming from a muscle in my lower back and she worked it relentlessly with her soothing thumbs until the knot all but disappeared. That you are, he said. She stood back in the mirror for a few minutes, looking at herself. My arms circled her hips and I eased her forward until the wild foliage of her pussy hovered just above my lips.