I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to obey him. I got up and put my knees on his thighs on the couch cushion facing him. Then I lowered myself into his lap, and we started kissing. He wrapped his arms around me tightly. I could feel his erection through his pants poking against the crotch of my panty. I shifted slightly to avoid that direct contact but it was still rubbing against my thighs. I moved a little more until my crotch was resting on his right thigh. I took my right leg and put it between his legs. In this position, the curve of his thigh fit perfectly again the junction of my thighs; a very snug fit. And before I knew it…god this is so embarrassing…before I knew it, I started moving my hips up and down his thighs, more or less dry humping him. The friction that this motion caused with his thighs, even through the fabric of my panty and of his pants, was beginning to affect my clitoris. I started moaning with every stroke. Rahul, for a change, seemed taken aback. He was. Love blossoms, hands touch, tingles tingle and it all moves forward. But alas, tonight had not moved forward, it had moved sideways and John now stood alone on his balcony his cock sad, flaccid and drooping in the manner of lonely cocks all over the world. On the other side of the connecting door Isabella’s own mind was flowering with completely different blooms. Unlike John’s melancholy patch of lilies, Issy’s garden was full of bright Gerbers of varied colors as bright as the rainbow. Issy was recalling their first meeting on the airplane and how John had helped her with her bag. A gentleman she sighed, not many of those anymore, as rare as a Phal orchid she thought to herself. Most of the boys Issy had encountered to date did not show up at the door with flowers and chocolates; no they “honked”. Isabella’s mother would invariably roll her eyes and give her daughter a look that suggested if that “honking” boy’s cock got anywhere near her precious daughter then she would be aghast.
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