No you don't

"Roger, feel completely... and totally welcome... to touch my body whenever you want to. Whenever you need to." Elly said huskily before smoothly standing up, stepping away from the picnic table and, turning her back to you, supposedly to admire the view.

Elly showcases her ass for you. You look at the total package. Her long, taut legs. Her fit, firm back, it's expanse of perfect flesh only interrupted by her overworked bra straps under her t-shirt. But you can't look away from the centerpiece of this mother's back side.

Namely, her masterpiece of an ass. The cheeks were so fleshy and firm in her jeans. It protruded outward proudly and prominently. The teeny, tiny thong straps rested on the upper curve of her firm ass-cheeks just above the belt line.

"Your body is a man's playground you say"

You get up and move toward her until you stand right behind her. Your hands slide across her shoulders and down the front.

“What are these?” Your deep voice says in her ear.

“…breasts,” She whispers back. You chuckle, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Soon enough. And whose are they?”

“Yours.”

Your hands squeeze, almost too hard.

“That’s right.”

One hand moves up to her face, the other pinches a nipple to hardness.

“What are these?”

“…lips.”

“And whose are they?”

“Yours.”

Your hand turns her head so that your lips could press against hers in a deep, devouring kiss.

“That’s right.”

Your hands moved.

“What is this? And whose are they?

“…hip… yours.”

“…tummy… yours.”

“…thigh… yours”

Each response gets a “That’s right” as she begins to tremble.

Your hand moves down the front of your jeans between her legs.

“What is this?”

“…m…p-..c-cunt.”

“And whose is it?”

“..y-yours.”

Through her slip, two fingers settle on either side of her slit and massage her, slightly pulling her lips open. The wetness from inside her is already soaking her panties.

“That’s right."