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“Hang on, it is, it fucking is. Jesus Christ!” exploded the man, in a broad South London accent. “You’re Grace Everley aren’t you?”Grace nodded and bit her lip. Oh shit! This is real scandal she thought. He dropped her arm and backed off, naked, hot, breathing garlic, his cock now dangling small under a six pack muscled belly against the heavyweight sac of his gonads.“Fuck me,” the man declared, tapping his female companion on her shoulder. “ tine, tine, Ernestine ... Don’t you recognise her? Grace, The Divine Grace, Graceful Rock, Grace of the Ages, Gratefully Grace ... Shit! I’ve got all your albums. Wow! I’m so sorry if I hurt you but...”“Sorry? You stupid cunt,” growled Ernestine, now in English, her tiny tits bristling with very erect sharp nipples. “She was peeping on us fucking for Christ’s sake John. Do you know how much trouble we could be in?”“No no I wasn’t peeping for that. I came to find out who was ... How old is she?” Grace suddenly asked, turned to John.His face. The day was fine and warm and Justin sucked in his breath when she came to the gate. She was wearing a pair of tight shorts that accentuated her shapely legs. She wore what was no more than a bikini top, presenting him with two cone-like visions. She was *very* hot!As an afterthought, she waved at the window where he imagined a curious mother was checking him out. She smiled and asked him where they were going.The park? he suggested, diplomatically, or maybe the river where he knew they would find seclusion? She suggested the mall first, because she wanted to go window shopping. Justin sighed inwardly. It didn't sound too romantic to him. More like something an 'established' couple would do. He didn't feel he had much choice, though, so he agreed.Angela towed Justin into several shops and asked his advice on several things. He tried to sound interested and hide his boredom. After a while he bought them both ice-creams and sat at one of the tables above the bus stops. From there Justin.
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