” “He’s not military. He’s a French citizen. If he gets her there I’ll never get her back.” “I see. Does he have visitation rights?”... “No. He isn’t listed on her birth certificate. She was born here — I came back from my exchange year a couple of months early so she would not be born in France. The social workers at Memorial were pretty unhappy when I wouldn’t name a father.” “Why didn’t you name him?” “My parent’s lawyer told me that if he appears on the birth certificate it strengthens. It was not long enough!After a couple of minutes of frustration, we stopped and sat down to figure out a better way. Eric was sitting on the milk crate and suggested that I sit in his lap. I thought “There is no way I am going to put my bare bottom on that greasy lawn mower engine,” so I sat on his lap with my back to him. I could feel his penis push against my bottom but it was nowhere near my opening. I spread my legs wide and leaned forward. I could now look down and see the head of his. ’ He raised the camera to his eye, leveling it in Christina’s direction. The shutter clicked, fast and satisfying. He hadn’t turned the lights on and Christina’s beauty was bathed in shadow. ‘And this humble taxi driver thinks he’s staring at the prettiest subject he’s ever had in his ‘studio.” The shutter captured her gasp. The wide circles of her eyes. The slight part of her glossy lips. He pulled the camera away, reviewing the two quick pictures he’d just taken. ‘Look, see for yourself…’. I slowly started to place my palm on her waist. I slowly used fingered her belly button which she loved. She used to sigh in between and I love that.Those days I used to feel like her melons. Some part was touching my hands while my palm used to roam on her belly. Since it was so huge little part was always out of her bra. I waited for the day and made sure nobody was on the floor. And the day as normal my hands were on her belly.Suddenly I slid my hand inside her bra and she was also.