“The reason for the anecdote is that the ingredient for success is passion. Do you have that passion for painting or for art?”“Well, I like pain...ing, Monica.”“Yes, and I like strawberries. The question is, do you have a passion for painting? If you do, why did you stop painting after leaving school?”“I… I just don’t know.”“I will give you my unbiased opinion. I don’t think you are a painter. From our conversation at lunch and your vivid description of what you saw in Venice and Greece, I don’t. If I looked as nice here as I did in the mirror then I wassure that Josh must've been thinking of me in ways not too flatteringfor a guy."Gee..." he softly said if a long nerved-up confession. "You'repretty, Bobbie."I stifled my flattered surprise under a blush. "Naw..." Well, you are. Don't just ask me, you saw how my friends smiled at you when we rode by. You're pretty...and that's why mom was angry, because you were the first girl to ever be in my room." Why should that bother her??"He shyly. "Alex, make love with me," she said, kissing him again, her hands going around his waist, trying to pull the shirt out of his pants while kissing him. He was kissing her back, distracting and disorienting her as he steered her into the bedroom. She pulled away from him and pulled the shirt out of his pants and in one motion over his head. His skin seemed to glow as she kissed his chest, slowly teasing him, his breath coming in short gasps as he ran his hands through her hair. She slowly ran her. He was naked, his legs spread wide. His shorts and underwear were tossed loosely on the floor. And there, on her knees before him, clad in tight little jogging shorts and a skimpy halter, was my step-step-sister, sliding her full-lipped mouth up and down this dude’s stiff cock.I was stunned, yet there she was, happily gobbling his rod, moaning softly and making wet slurping sounds as she rolled her head, pulling on his dick with her mouth. Her hands ran up and down his legs, cradled his balls,.