I could feel her left breast in my left hand. I wasn't grasping it, just resting the palm of my hand on it, seemingly of its own volition. The breast ...as firm and strong but relaxed, the nipple slack in my hand. My right hand was laying on its back, on the mattress, her body on top of the forearm.We were both buried in the blankets, the tops just above my chin.Something woke me up. Some sound. Unusual, but not threatening. Someone clearing his throat."Good morning."I'd awakened to those words. Not that anyone was surprised;after all she was nothing but a tease to us. But the flaunting of her legsand the display of the snaps of her garter belt was wearing us down. Pantyhose were uncommon back in 1968. The particulars are fuzzy as what took place and who took them duringthe next hour, but I do remember we each took turns sitting on thisoverstuffed sofa swapping spit while feeling up her titties before ithappened. With her tongue down Rob's throat he pushed her down onto thesofa as. More

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