Understanding that she had to get George to touch her with his hands, she held his head to her boobs while whispering in his ear. "Go on, George. Don't you want to touch them. Please, look how stiff my n*****s are for you. Oh, that's so nice. Please, George, touch me," she pleaded. His c**k was rock hard under her arse. It felt huge.
George was making no pretence of holding back now, burying his face between Claire's breasts, enjoying their springy softness and substantial weight. But he still stubbornly refused to unfold his arms. For Claire this was becoming a matter of pride. How could any man dare to resist her?
She stood up and unzipped her skirt. She was wearing a pair of high-cut black briefs that matched her bra. She paused for moment and made a decision before peeling them off,
