Biting her lower lip, she gave herbody one good relaxing stretch, found a position shecould hold, and drifted back into sleep.The next conscious moment was of a warm hand slidingover the welts on her thigh. The fingers traced thelengths of the raised bruises as a blind man readsBraille. She rolled instinctively towards the touch,opening her sore self once again to his pleasure. His hand moved to her inner thigh, caressing andprodding. As his fingers found the swollen and tenderlips of her cunt, their sleepy moans echoed the achingdesire kindling with the sun. She moved her hands above her head to grasp theheadboard. The movement stretched her torso, and hishand slid over her stomach and ribs to grasp her leftbreast in his hand and roll her nipple in his finger andthumb. His pressure slowly and steadily increased untilshe was whimpering and squirming under his touch. His moan was a fake sort of sympathetic as he pulled herinto his body. Cradling her in his arms, he held bothbreasts. Nice and smooth that ass was. "I hope you got my good side", said Cynthia, startling me. "Sorry, did I wake you?" "What in the hell are you doing?" "Doing a little art work." I continued with my camera getting shots of her bright smile. "This is art?", she asked. "Hey, you do it all the time with your drawings of me while I'm asleep. This makes us even now." "All right. You want to play? I'll.
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