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That was a sign of defeat if he ever did see one. He came to stand behind her, another smirk on his lips. “You can’t do it, can you, Elisabeth?” His palm skimmed over her flat stomach, continuing lower to the thin band of her navy-blue lace panties. He closed the gap between them, the finely tailored grey trousers he wore tightened as his member grew harder. She stood frozen, powerless to his advances. Her hand relaxed into a loose ball and rested against the top of one of her thighs as his other hand snaked around her waist and held her in place. He pressed his lips to her ear, his breath heavy, his voice laden with lust. “Don’t move, sweetheart.” She moaned in response; it was obvious she wasn’t to go anywhere and he was fully aware of that. His fingers traced her smooth skin, confidently trailing lower into her underwear. She threw her head back as he rubbed the pads of his fingers over her aching clit, retreating briefly, only to delve deeper to feel her wet folds. He smirked. Wham, bam, fuck you man!"Keep your eyes closed," she purred, very close. The odor of mint mixed with a minor undercurrent of alcohol and... something else very pleasant wafted by my nose. I breathed deeply and enjoyed her fragrance. What was the scent? What was it called? Organza? Orgazma? Something like that. Did I know anyone who smelled like this? No. I would remember.She moved in close on my right. I could feel her breasts mold around my upper arm making my lower muscle enlarge once again. I could tell quite a bit from her close proximity. She was definitely not flat-chested, far from it, but they weren't monsters, either. They were perfect, from my limited perspective. I could tell that she was not hefty either; there was definitely a waist. She was 5'6 give or take an inch. My imagination filled in the rest and did quite a nice job, if I say so myself.I jumped in my seat a little as I felt her unexpectedly brush my semi-hard-on lightly with her fingernails. The little guy.
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