Sarika Girl Nude Show
At first we dance quietly, his hand on my hip, a slight space between us. But gradually, his hand begins to slip from my hip, moving back and down, his fingers gently, as if by accident, coming to rest on the curve of my ass.I want to push this stranger away, run from the dance floor, shout for help.But I do none of those things.I smile up at him, my eyes half-closed in a sultry expression, and I wriggle a bit under his hand. He takes this as a signal that I don't mind, and his fingers begin a gentle caressing motion on the swell of my cheek.I turn a bit, tilt my hip, and his hand slips completely round, now cupping my cheek, squeezing and stroking. He presses a bit; I follow his pressure, moving forward toward him, thrusting my hips forward so that my body touches his, rolling my hips so that my mound gently grinds against his crotch.I can feel his erection; feel it growing larger as I grind my hips against his.His hand is frankly clutching at my ass now, his fingers beginning to. "He's all yours," I told her."I'll see you later, Chiquita. Save a place at the dinner table for me."Only a few minutes after she led him away the rest of us were saddled up, and I led them out the door to take a tour of the town, every single one of us naked, some on borrowed bikes. It was as good a promotion for The Program as any banner could have been, and Darryl didn't mind lending us some of his stock since those bikes had his tag dangling from the handlebars. He knows good advertising when he sees it.Damn! Here I was doing it again. In middle school I'd led the Dirty Dozen out into the halls in the name of Sex Ed. Now I was leading a parade of naked teen bicycle riders through town to prove that The Program lived. It was late afternoon, rush hour, and we tied up traffic with our tour, down Main Street, around and back up through the plaza, past the "birdwatchers" under the ficus tree -- who gave us a standing ovation -- turning the heads of the shoppers with their last minute.
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