<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/dba2/ack8z9n23ezcqzx6g.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Nan Rapido</span> </strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center">_____<br/><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Det. Kantonspolizei Zürich</span></strong></div></div></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">No shyness now for Pussy.  With just a zipper assist, I’m treated to watching her disrobe.  Her nipple shields are cutely sexy—they look much, much better worn than what I viewed at the store when the clerk told me about the purchase.<br/><br/>But it’s my turn.  Quick is the urge—get my clothes off and start in on Pussy.  That would be a mistake.  I slow down, taking my time with each button, snap and hook.  At each success, I look at Pussy with a coy smile.<br/><br/>Clothes off, I press against Pussy and make sure her strap-on is secure.  I stroke it and pull lightly—I watch Pussy’s face.  I pretty sure there’s a little ‘tell’ that the strap-on is up to the task.  *Smile*<br/><br/>I’m not going to be able to jump onto her as she stands and have her drive things that way.  No standing with her as support.  Reality can be a slightly problematic bitch.  Slightly only though.  I get on my knees and lubricate the red wonder.  I look to the bed, “What’s Pussy’s desire—start on top or on bottom.”  *Giggle*  “I did say start, right?”  <br/></span>