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With small, soft strokes, I licked a few circles around her areola, enjoying the way she shuddered and whimpered. Grasping her nipple between my lips, I flicked my tongue over it, slowly, methodically, waiting for her reaction.“Dad?” Jamie whispered.“What, baby?”“I thought you were going to lick my pussy.”“I'm getting to that. Don't you like this?“Yes!” she whimpered. “But I'm not sure I can wait. I need to touch myself.”“No, Jamie, don't. I'll take good care of you,” I said, switching to her left breast.“I wanna cum again, Dad. I wanna cum.”“You will.”Still enjoying her firm young tit, I began to comb my fingers through the short curls on her mound. She parted her legs, inviting my hand to play with the tender skin of her upper thighs. As my fingertips tickled the wet flesh of her outer lips, I wondered if I would be able to resist the urge to fuck her. No! I can't do that. I must not go there. But I am going to make her cum on my tongue.My fingertips were wet with her moisture. I. Arthur and Jodi Miller were completely opposite to them. He was a tall handsome dude who worked in finance and his wife, well, she was a combination of Mitch’s six favorite movie stars. When he was supposed to be meditating he’d think about Jodi and how nice it would be to have his hands around her ass and his dick stuck in to her as far as it would go.One particular session the Guru tried something experimental. It was what he called, “Levitating the mind.” In essence he encourage the participants to think outside their bodies. The exercise lasted for fifteen minutes and when it was all over Mitch seemed to be sitting in a different place, not only that he was wearing a different track suit, one with a light blue stripe down the leg, not a yellow one.He felt his face and he had a beard, just like Arthur, and then he looked over to where Layla sat and there he was – Mitch Robertson!“What the fuck’s going on,” he blurted out loud.Jodi, who was sitting next to him asked him what on.
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