More hands ran rambo suicide naked at mr skin over her sides and down to her hips, around to her ass, spreading her cheeks. Even more hands moved between her legs. She rambo suicide naked at mr skin spread her feet slightly to let the hands there find her pussy. Fingers lifted her lips and moved upward until her rambo suicide naked at mr skin clit was visible. "Put her down now," someone suggested. She was rambo suicide naked at mr skin eased downward then to the floor where she felt some kind of comfort or quilt had been spread. No one told her how to position herself, so she turned to lie on her back. Hands took her immediately. Hands found her breasts again. Hands lifted her legs and spread them. Hands were everywhere on her body, touching, caressing, probing, pulling her skin and pulling her to go with them where they wanted her to go.
The woman was gorgeous, with Amazonian proportions. Tall, broad-shouldered, with fantastic heavy breasts and a great big heart-shaped ass. I'm not typically what you'd call an ass man, but with this girl it was hard not to notice. She had short hair and very dark skin, looked to be about my age (23 then.) I sank back into the shadows of my apartment and watched. I've never been a rambo suicide naked at mr skin lurk in the bushes Peeping Tom type, but I'm not one to ignore a free show, either. I watched the woman for several minutes as she walked around her apartment un-self-consciously, obviously trying to cool off by air-drying. Finally, she crawled into bed, still naked, and turned off the lights, ending that night's performance.