That night as I lay in my bed, I tossed and turned in a restless sleep. My mind was alive with thoughts of her, thoughts of pleasing her, thoughts of submitting to her, thoughts of running my hand along her hard flat masculine chest, tweaking her small manly nipples, breathing deeply of the musky male scent of her armpits.
The contradiction between her feminine facial features and hairstyle with her hunky-stud body shape had my heart pounding in my chest. Every thought of running my hand along her hard pecs drew me to only desiring to be her servant of sexual pleasure.
Reaching into the drawer in my nightstand, I pulled out a jockstrap. When I meet her, I want her to be wearing it as I pleasure her pussy with my lips and tongue. For now I wrapped it around my hardening cock as I began stroking. I imagine it warm and wet with her vaginal juices.
As I did, she entered the room. She was wearing noting but a pair of men's y-fronts and a 'beater' white undershirt. Her erect clit made a bulge in the front of her y-fronts that longed to be sucked. The undershirt was tight across her chest and molded to the firm shape of her smooth chest and rippled abs.
Reaching over she grabbed the jockstrap from my hand and tossed it in the corner. Taking my hand, she slipped my fingers into the fly opening of y-fronts. Her pussy hair was damp with her juices, and finger slipped easily along her slick vaginal lips.