It was quite the typical day in the hotel corridors. Red everywhere, tasteless pictures, people coming and going and getting caught up in one thing or another. But, in this particular corridor, it seemed the traveller was alone for once, no one around. Until
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There's too much going on to characterize in one word, and none of it's particularly gentle or considerate, and yet none of it's exactly unwelcome, either. She gives up on the shirt, placing her hands lightly over the wrists of the ones kneading her breasts. She's not overly endowed, but she's not flat, each breast a comfortable handful.
She wriggles slightly at the stinging grip on her rear and whimpers. From the feel of it, her panties are flimsy things of lace and silk. Relaxing, she tilts her head to the side to give him easier access to the bare skin of her neck and shoulder as the blouse slides off her. It actually takes a moment for the oversized tongue to register, and she cranes her neck to blink down at him in mild puzzlement, then blushes and gives a small squeak as he hits a sensitive spot on her thigh, turned on despite her uncertainty.
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The other laughs briefly as she squeaks, memorising that spot. Even as his fingers curl into those lacy garments, he tests to see if he'll get the same reaction from licking on the same spot on the opposite leg before pulling her panties down in a swift movement, leaving the skirt in place for now.
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What's going on below her waist, by contrast, feels awfully good. She pants a little, toes curling. She's not as wet yet as she will be, but she's definitely getting there, and once her underwear's been removed, she spreads her legs a little further apart obligingly.
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