Being as trim as she was, she had barely an A/B cup, but she was blessed with a great little apple bottom. Just my type, but John had the line on that...sewn up! First time I saw her, she walked into the gas station where John was working. They were going out later that evening. She wore jeans that she must have wiggled into, along with a fitted white button-up blouse that looked a bit like a man's dress shirt, topping that off with a pair of four-inch red heels. I was almost drooling. Then she. (The quiver has reached her center, just as my knee presses once again against her; her hips now are engaged, pushing her heated mound against me) I could wait no longer, and my hand left her shoulder to caress down a little, to just under her arm, and around to the soft mound of her breast. (My knee, instead of moving back down her leg, presses harder against her; I can feel her shaking in anticipation, and I can faintly smell her excitement) I squeezed as my hand completely covered her. More

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