“You’re like a fucking mongoose,” he gasped after we quit. “I never know if you’re feinting or getting ready to strike. Half the time I thin... you feint knowing you can still strike if you see the opening; and that fucking aerial scissor leg flip! I’ve never seen anything like it!” he exclaimed.The move he was talking about was one I did when he tried to sweep my legs. I jumped, like he expected, and he was ready to attack where he thought I was going to end up. Instead, I twisted so that I was. ”“It’s nearly time for Mom to come home.”“Dang, I hear Mom at the door now. I’ll put my shirt on and go talk to her. If I call you - come into her room with just your boxers on.”I was really hoping Rachel would call me. Mom always strips down to her panties and puts on a sleeveless shirt. I’ve seen her wearing a shirt that’s so sheer, I can see her nipples. Her nipples look no bigger than Rachel’s and I still have that image in my head.“Guy! Come in here, and bring your camera. Mom and I need. She had done a very good boxing session, with much more vigor than usual.We used the pool to do aqua aerobics together.Tamara headed to the change room whilst I put the equipment away. I slipped off my shirt and shorts - I was just dressed in my swimming briefs. I jumped into the small plunge pool and waited for her.“Wow” I muttered under my breath.Today, Tamara wasn’t wearing her normal conservative one-piece bathing suit ... today she wore a bright floral ... and very brief bikini which. Every breath they coax from Robert seems to whisper, "More." One by one, they tell me how badly he wants to unravel the bow tickling my spine, inveigle his fingers beyond tan lines to strum pale suppleness, then lower his mouth in a trail of unhurried nibbles that give way to voracious wolfing once locked onto its cherry-stem destinations.But he can't. Not here. His clothed frustration knocks roughly at the smoothness below my navel.Curiosity overwhelms me, and I disengage and slip beneath the.