" Icould feel her soapy flesh sliding around beneath my face as shespoke, but I was still too stunned to react. "Wash me with yourmouth, clean me with...your tongue, and perhaps I'll let you showme just how grateful you are."Fortunately, I didn't need to think to obey. While I was stillmarvelling at my luck, instinct took over and nudged me intoaction. Timidly at first, I stuck out my tongue to taste thesoap on her breasts and was immediately relieved by the factthat she trusted only natural,. We shared a bottle of Orvieto.She was from a working-class background. Her father was a bus driver and her mother a nursing assistant. Boxing was a way out of her small town, an opportunity to make some money once she had discovered she could handle herself in the school playground. It wasn’t a big deal to her. She had been doing it for nearly five years.I steered clear of the stuff I had been thinking about and we talked about sport, films, food, families – all the normal stuff.At nine o’clock. I did my makeup more subdued for daytime, and my toes were stillpainted but I painted my fingernails again.It was unseasonably warm for the time of year so I dressed in denimCapri pants and wore a light blue cotton camisole bra top under a whiteopened blouse. And on my feet were black flat walking sandals and I hada medium black shoulder bag... and was blonde with shoulder length wavyhair with thin bangs.I drove over and picked up Karen and we drove to a few clearance stores- I headed right for. Amanda, you've got something on the back of your trousers." Amanda stopped and craned her neck over her shoulder to see what was there. I moved quickly, planting my hand firmly on the ample mound of her arse. I pressed my hand in to the softness of her rear, gently rubbing at an imaginary stain. "What is it, what've I sat in now?" she asked."Oh it's just some mud or something, I can get it off, just hold still a minute."I rubbed and squeezed the delightfully soft and pliant flesh of her arse,.