“You okay?” “I feel great,” I grinned. “It was amazing.” “Good.” “But I gotta get ready and go to class.” “Me too,” she sighe..., and hopped off her bed. I wasn’t freaked out about the whole thing, as I had spent the better part of a semester dreaming about it. It had just been really, really nice, topped off by the most incredible orgasms I had ever had. I expected it to be a one time thing, like a make-up present, and that we would just go back to being friends. When I returned that evening,. That's actually why I went inside - sheer curiosity. I took apicture of it, so see for yourself."He picked up his phone from the bedside table, found the photo he waslooking for, and handed it to me. There, wedged between a newsagent and aporn store - this was Soho, remember - was a strange little shop that waslike something out of Dickens. It looked very out of place there. If Peterhadn't noticed it until recently he must walk around with his head in theclouds."The place seemed to be mostly. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. She was more beautiful than a work of art. I noticed that her desk was absolutely clear. How Iong did I sleep I asked myself? She wasn't exactly what anyone would call smart, at least not in her studies anyways. Then I thought to myself, so what if she's done look at her body. I went back to admiring her body. Today she had on a blouse (I think it was a blouse, I'm not familiar with women's clothing) that was extremely low cut. Her breasts were so. He removed his hand and I felt relived, but found that he was inserting his hand inside my anchal and reached my breast again, this time directly on the blouse. My breathing almost stopped. Now he was squeezing the boob without any fear of someone seeing what he was doing and I still could not do anything. Then I felt another hand also entering my anchal and grabbing my other breast. But this man’s other hand was holding the train’s rod for support! So….. someone else was holding my other.