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He removed his shirt all the way, then switched his mouth to the other breast for a few moments, making sure to give it the same treatment. Then he raised up and kissed her on the lips, one hand still on her belly, the other kneading her breast. She returned the kiss passionately and deeply, with a hunger inspired by his attention to her breasts. She wanted more. She needed more. "Take off your pants." She said in a throaty whisper. "I want to see it. I want to taste it." She smiled devilishly, full pink lips curled upward in a smile. "And I want it in me. Doesn't have to be in that order." You take them off." He said. Slowly, the devilish smile still on her lips, she began to lower herself to her knees, leaning heavily on the nearby chair. "You realize that, once I'm down here, I'll probably be here for a while?" She teased. "But... I'm sure I can make myself useful." She gave him a sly wink as she unfastened the top button of his jeans and, looking up in to his eyes, slowly unzipped. It was darker under these bigger trees, and sort of damp and cool after the bright sun. He swung the bread truck into the turnout and stopped. He sat still for a minute, not looking at me. I just sat there, watching the bubbling water pouring out of the artesian pipe. Ferns grew around the little pool, half mud and half water, that surrounded it; somebody had laid planks out across the mud so people could get a drink of that cold water. His voice was so jerky I couldn't hardly understand the words. Though they were plain enough. "How about It?" I sat there and looked at him. A fine-looking fellow, all right, not like the men who have to work in the pulpwood and wear overalls and get old before their time. Not like Papa. He was tall and slim, and he wore a pair of white coveralls that was just as clean as clean could be. He had his name written in thread above his breast pocket, and over the other pocket was the emblem of the bread company he drove route for. Just as fine a.
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