I dragged my nails down his back, shifting them around to his chest, my mouth never leaving his. Slowly tracing my fingers over his washboard abs, my ...ingers became adventurous and dove into his swim trunks, grasping his hardening length and pumping slowly. He moaned into my mouth as I felt him getting harder in my hand. Biting his lower lip, I moved my other hand into my own suit bottoms, gently circling my clit again, the wetness from earlier still remaining. “You don’t realize what you do to. I know that you don’t really like those things, but you never showed it through the whole ceremony.’ It wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but George wouldn’t ruin the day for any reason. It was over before one knew it and it was on to the reception. ‘It was a far cry from our wedding thirty years ago,’ George observed. ‘Times were different then,’ Helen reminded him. *********** It was July 1946, they had license in hand and a small group at Rev. MacDonald’s parsonage. George wore his dress. More

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