She was sitting on her Vespa with two helmets hanging from the handle bars. One pink and one black. She was similarly dressed as me. But her skirt was...black and tight while mine was light yellow and flared. Mine ended just above my knees and hers half way up her shapely thighs. I wore a simple white top with straps and a white bra. She wore a red short-sleeved T-shirt and I was sure she had no bra. I could see her nipples through the thin fabric. “Hi,” she said when I walked up to her. “Is. Approximately two years after we met things had gotten very bad in the valley because of a prolonged drought. Someone told Diego about work in eastern Washington picking apples and he decided to try his luck. For weeks after he left I found I missed him. I missed his bright outlook, his joy in life and his friendship. Ten months passed, and one Friday around mid-day Diego knocked on my door. He was returning from an extended visit to his home in Mexico and was on his way back to Washington. We. More

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