"Enough," she gasped, her voice husky with her passion, "I don't think I can stand up for much longer." Stepping backward, she sat on the edge of the bed, pulling me with her by the front of my jeans. She quickly undid the belt and then the buttons. Her hands were shaking and she had some trouble with them, but I decided to let her do it on her own. She pushed the jeans to my ankles. I stepped out of them. My erection, barely contained by my shorts, was now right in front of her face. Lisa looked up at me and smiled as she worked her fingers inside the waistband of my jockeys. In another moment they joined my jeans by the side of the bed. Her hands flew to my cock, grasping it firmly, squeezing and pumping -- seemingly measuring its length and thickness, testing the firmness of my maleness.