Probably 36 C. Just a guess on my part, but whatever they were, they were impressive. As I took in the rest of her body, I discovered she had the legs...of a dancer, which as it turned out, she was.I held the car door for her and she gave me a nice view of her upper thigh as she slide into the passenger seat. We were halfway to Journal Square before she spoke."Do you dance?" I manage, but I'm not very good at it." What do you do best?" I'd have to say the foxtrot." Can you Mambo?" No way." How. I felt my waist shrinking. Itwasn't hard to breath, but I wouldn't want to run anywhere either."Nice and tight!" she whispered patting me on my lace-covered bottom."You look so cute, already. Kneel right here."I dropped to my knees, and her fingers went right to my nipples, shegently pinched at them until they were hard little points on myhairless chest. "I'll help you put this on." She held up the bra thatmatched the panties. A moment later she was reaching around my backclasping the bra. I closed my eyes to pretend to be asleep. After I was sure he had left I opened my eyes to see my wife was all smiles. She rolled over facing away from me and scooted her ass closer to me. My own pecker was hard so I slid it into her wet loosened pussy. She wiggled her ass and said I can't even feel your little pee pee. I reached around her and grabbed her nipple. As I sucked her neck and pinched her nipple I did my best to fuck her hard but she was way to loose and wet. I couldn't come and. ’ Lady Bowers was in her early forties. Statuesque, with a magnificent figure, Rachel was reminded of pictures she had seen of the Bluebell Girls. ‘Yes, Mrs Cooper.. Very….erm….’ Sir Hartley searched for the right word. Alluring, sexy, enticing, seductive, tempting, he settled for – ‘attractive.’ ‘Darling, you can’t keep calling the poor girl, Mrs Cooper. After all, she is our dinner guest.’ ‘Quite.’ Sir Hartley cleared his throat and looked at Rachel, a frown furrowing his brow. ‘Erm…’ It was.