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“Hm. A bra. How conservative,” she said boredly. “But a black one...not bad.” She reached underneath my arms and around my back to unhook the bra. In no time, faster than any man ever had, she slid the straps off my shoulders and away went the bra. Palms flat, Angelina smoothed her hands up and down my bared back. “Such soft skin,” she cooed gently. “How do you keep such pretty skin, especially out in the desert, hm?” I shook my head. “I...I dunno.” Dammit, Lisa, be a little smoother than this. She continued to run her hands over my body, her soft hands dancing over my arms and shoulders, around my neck and back down again, and finally to my chest, where she inched her way down millimeter by millimeter.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Angelina asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes. All I could do was shake my head like a mute retard. She suddenly yanked her hands, which had been almost at my breasts, down to my stomach, and she was tugging at the band of my jeans. “You know, I think every woman should just once in her life be undressed by another woman. We’re all so afraid of each other, you know? Like we’re all competitive, enemies, adversaries. We should all be friends. Love each other. Don’t you think?” Angelina contemplated allowed as she unhooked my jeans.