‘Oh Brett, please don’t it’s not right, you shouldn’t, I ohh…’ The cause for her intake of breath was Brett whose hands had come round t... cup her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress, and since she wears no bra (her breasts are fabulously firm 34B’s) and I could imagine how she felt. In retrospect I know I should have made my presence known at this stage. However part of me was incredibly turned on by the spectacle (in the same way as when I watched her masturbate), but also I. I couldn’t fathom what her womanhood felt like directly, I couldn’t dare. Perhaps there was still time to stop, perhaps I hadn’t gone too far. I knew I couldn’t touch her most precious place. The place that she had kept hidden from all but the man sleeping next to her. The man who trusted me more than anyone in the world. Her decision was clearly made. So by what right then, did my fingers slip back under her shorts? Questions and answers never returned to me, only lust. She moaned. More

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