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His hands came to rest on her hips, burying his face between her legs as she reached for his cock, slowly, softly tracing her hands up and down it's length. His tongue moved in and out of her, up and down, licking her juices from her, slowly, deeply. Her hips pressed down to meet every stroke of his tongue, gyrating to the movements of his mouth on her, his tongue in her. His hands slid to her tits, caressing them, squeezing them softly, massaging them.Faster she stroked him, wanting it, needing him inside her. He sucked on her clit softly at first, but ever harder as it became fully erect - his tongue sliding inside her, moving in circles, sucking on her. Neither could take the sensuous teasing any longer.She needed him inside her. He needed to be inside her. She moved from his mouth and straddled his cock, taking it in her soft hand and guiding it into her wetness, slowly sliding down, taking every inch of it in. She was so hot, so wet, so tight inside - it was a perfect fit. God. He could have contrived to meet her as she shopped for groceries.But his powerful attraction for this woman -- his lust -- had caused him to lose his composure. It had been uncharacteristic behavior. He had become heedless of the possible consequences of their meeting, coming as it did in an isolated, threatening environment.He regretted it. Not the woman's death, specifically. But he had lost an opportunity. And she had been lovely! She would be difficult to replace.What to do now? Phelps was confident that there were no witnesses to the actual incident at the lake. He had twice observed the splendid isolation of the area. There had been no other vehicles on the road going into the area. Probably, he thought, he would have heard, if anyone had so much as driven by while he had been with the girl. "No witnesses, other than the geese," he thought.Hiding her car had been difficult, given the muddy conditions. It could have been a disaster, had her car become mired out in the open while.
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