Licking my finger I think, What a wonderful life.Rubbing spit between my legs, wondering if he enjoys himself while he mows his ground, I hear the sound of the engine move further and further a way from the house. He is a good man. The thought of him pushes my hand below. The softness in the ripples there turn me on. I like that spot where my wrist rest on the inner thigh where the leg meets the wet. Around like a merry-g...