Rachel gasped and involuntarily jerked her hips into Mrs. Owens’ fingers. Her head was swimming, her body felt like a hundred tingling fingers were dancing under her skin, and her clit–oh God her clit–every time her neighbor touched it she felt like she might explode. She never did though; Mrs. Owens was far too careful for that. Instead she just kept climbing, higher and higher and higher, until she could feel her clit throbbing between her legs.
She knew she was being naughty. She knew she shouldn’t let her neighbor touch her this way, but everytime Rachel met her eyes, something inside her just melted. Then she’d speak to her in that silky, sultry voice, and everything would get so…fuzzy…so drowsy. She simply had to let her take her inside. Had to let herself be undressed. Had to let the sexy, dominant woman have her way…
She was putty in the cunning lesbian’s hands.
“You’re going to be my good little slut, aren’t you, kitten?” Mrs. Owens purred, reaching for her tender clit again. And all Rachel could do was groan her mindless, needy assent.
