One afternoon l was kept in to read to Mrs Renauld’s because l did not complete the homework she set and as l read she was twirling the hair at the ...ack of my head, l paused what l was reading and glanced sideways to see right into her blouse due to one of her buttons being undone the sight of Mrs Renauld’s bra with a good view of tit made it hard to now concentrate on what l was reading. She closed the book and asked if l was alright, l stuttered l was a bit hot, Mrs Renauld’s ran her fingers. Darlene sat in the tub beneath a pool of steaming water and a mountain of suds. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked. He slipped off his suit jacket and hung it on the hook on the door.It was just as he pictured her. Her hair was up, make-up steamed away. She looked vulnerable. A glass of white wine rested on the ledge of the tub. Beads of condensation rolled off the glass as proof of the coldness inside it. As he approached the tub she sank lower into the suds, although not low enough. His answer was always the same..... "Not my little princess". When I would pout and be upset by this he would smile, take me in his arms, place me on his lap and softly explain that I was special and I wasn't ready to deal with the young idiots that were growing up today. He would brush my long blonde hair and tell me how special I was and that one day soon I would be ready to meet the right person. Someone that would see me for the lovely princess I had become and nurture, love, protect and. Emma felt the boy’s X-ray eyes on her attention-starved nipples which throbbed pre-boobgasmically a fraction of an inch below the tube-top neckline of the strapless dress. But where once upon a time she would instinctively have drawn her white cardigan shut over her cleavage with a reprimanding glare, she decided instead to encourage the horny teenager’s gaze by removing the knitwear top altogether. She leaned forward, freckled cleavage wobbling as she wriggled her arms out of the sleeves,.