Sure, she was getting aroused by my fondling, but that wasn’t as important to my conscious as much as the fondling itself. Her squirming increased, ...hrusting her chest out in an effort to press her boobs harder into my hands. Her head twisted from side to side, her mouth opening and closing in pleasure. She was on the brink of an orgasm and I just couldn’t quite do it for her with just the fondling. ‘Fuck! Enough!’ She grabbed my wrists, yanked them out of her top and stood up, all rather. I drove to a convenience store for gas while she put her hair up, then pulled on a pair of sunglasses and a floppy hat. Due to her height and her carriage it was obvious that she was a woman, but it was not likely that the Russians had advanced facial recognition at their disposal. Unless we were caught in the act she should be safe.When I paid for the gas, the woman in my truck could have been anyone. We drove through a chicken restaurant where she ordered a small box of chicken fingers. I. More

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