Seeing that she was standing side on to me and looking the other way, I relaxed and looked at her more closely.Today she was wearing a short denim skirt that hugged her hips and then flared out to about mid-thigh. Her tight-fitting white blouse showed off her curves. Thin strips of ruffle decorated the neckline and the edges of the super-short sleeves. Her long black hair was bound at the back of her neck with a white band and then dropped in long ropy curls down her back. A pair of open-toed shoes with a medium-sized heel completed today's outfit. She was much more sensibly dressed for today's heat than most of the business people scattered around the cafe – including me.Her arms were bare from the shoulders down, apart from the delicate watch around her left wrist and the fine bracelet she wears on her right wrist. Sometimes she's worn hose or tights or whatever but today her long, muscular legs were bare.I've always been a leg-woman. Sure, I like to admire the whole package but I. Another incremental push was met with a moan. Then she pushed back.Another push simultaneously launched Camille into a slow rocking motion that created a deep fucking on the toy and a slow, purposeful ride that drove me just a little deeper with every tilt.When the head finally entered her, she clenched around me and stopped.“Derrick?” Her arms were straight as she held the edge of the table; her head down and her back in a deep arch. I couldn’t see her face, so there was no getting a read on what was to come next.“Yes, babe?” My arms wrapped around her, but my hips only moved ever so slightly.“All of you... in me, please.”“We’ll get there,” I assured her. Camile seemed to be ready, but it had to be her pace.“Now. All of you.”With my arms still holding her tight, my hips began pushing the length of me into her tight depths. More purpose, penetrating farther with each thrust but resisting any urge to bury balls deep at once.With every added inch, Camille groaned loudly.Then she began.
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