I didn’t want to break the spell, so I simply lay there, accepting her touch, unconcerned when she began slowly unbuttoning my sweater.“Mr. Vander...eer…” I murmured as she peeled it carefully from my shoulders and down my arms, draping it over the back of the sofa.“Is upstairs and asleep, baby.”“Oh,” I replied, feeling the familiar tingle of lust within as she caressed by breast, her thumb stroking my nipple through the fabric of my bra.“Otherwise, I’m sure he’s be perfectly happy to help me. He was five years younger than me at nineteen and three younger than Becky. He worked for one of the big flour milling companies as a driver’s mate, out all day delivering to bakeries. Lugging those giant sacks had left him with a body chiselled by the gods.He was married to Jean, Becky’s oldest friend. Jean was eight months pregnant and so had no part in what now follows -- much as I would loved to have fucked her, sexy little redhead that she was. And I have to say that nothing sexual had. More

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