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I lifted Shelly's black dress over her head. Gosh, she was beautiful in her black bra and thong. Shelly had a beautiful body. We held hands and walked to the bed, where she kissed me again. I was full of desire but I didn't know what to do, or say. Tentatively, I reached out and touched Shelly's beautiful breast. Her hand covered mine and pressed it down harder onto her chest. It was so soft. With her other hand, Shelly cupped my breast and I moaned. Her fingers moved to my nipple and she took it between her thumb and forefinger and twirled it, pulled it, watching my eyes at all times. She knew I was enjoying what she did. She brought up her other hand and now she had both nipples in her fingers, twisting and turning. I followed her example, tweaking her nipples, and Shelly smiled her approval, moaning softly. “Molly,” she said in my ear, “sit on the edge of the bed and… “ ~~~~ Molly sat on the edge of the bed and then lay back as I’d instructed. With both hands under her ass, I slid. And it was a long drive. The lazy late evening sun slowly drifted over the horizon, giving off a soft yellow glow. It was late summer, already September. The evenings were cooler now, and they were headed for the water’s edge. Martin’s home was in the backwater on the eastern shore of a large east coast bay. It was quiet, free of the noises of the city, only the crickets kept up a constant chatter. An occasional bat flitted low across the sky, sporadically night eyes lit the side of the road, perhaps a fox, maybe just a cat, maybe even a bobcat. A gentle land breeze seemed to hold the end of season mosquitoes at bay. Cheryl drifted in and out of sleep, gently soothed by the melody of the tires and the hum of a nearly quiet engine. Martin glanced over at her as she lazed in the passenger seat, heavy lidded eyes, lashes long and exquisite, head occasionally bobbing then jerking upright. She had her left hand in her lap, palm upward. Her right hand was pressed against her cheek, elbow.
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