Keeping Company

Bill’s got a pile of chores and he can’t find Taylor’s dad. The guy won’t be back for hours, Taylor says with a sly little grin. She pats the spot next to her, “Keep me company,” and kicks her smooth legs up, bare feet rocking in tiny shorts covered in tiny flowers. He starts rubbing. One innocent touch turns hungry fast—kisses turn to tongue work and he ends up worshiping every inch from nail polish to heel. Her toes, slender and painted, squeeze around his fat cock. She strokes twice and he sprays all over them, and Taylor laughs like it’s exactly what she ordered.