A second segment was soon in hand, and traced further down her body, underneath her breasts this time, and tracing down toward her belly. He squeezed ...he fruit again and watched as the juice this time, ran off in every direction possible, starting in one central point and spider-webbing out over smooth olive skin. This too was meticulously licked and cleaned up, so that her skin was no longer sticky with the sweet fruit juice, but shone with saliva in the late summer twilight that was cascading. I complimented her - very innocently - how nice was her appearance. I told here the dress complimented her very well. She leaned closely to my left ear (funny how we remember some details) and said, "I bought it for you!" Needless to say, this was a thrill for me.The progress of our expanded connection occurred that night, after the meeting. I asked if she had time to talk about a few details of the meeting, and she said yes. We stopped at a pie shop that was on her way home. Sharing a dessert. ‘Oh, wait a minute.’ Veronica wriggled and sat up from her reclining position. She turned her head to look at me. ‘This Friday?’ ‘Yes,’ I said, my stomach churning and my heart drumming furiously inside my chest. Please, God, don’t tell me she’s arranged a dinner party. ‘I’m seeing Helen again on Friday. That’ll probably work out okay. You can eat at the club again, can’t you?’ 
’Yes, sweetheart,’ I said, relief flooding through my body. Then thought: Helen, the divorcee? Again? That evening, I. “Thank you, Trish,” said Mr. Krushank as he took the empty bottle. He carefully set it aside.“Now, Trish, stand up for me.” Mr. Krushank wasn't asking. She wasn't sure why he wanted her to stand, but it did seem reasonable. She stood, a little wobbly.“Trish, you are a very sexy woman. I love your ass. Show me your ass, Trish.” Mr. Krushank reached out and, grasping her hips, turned her to face away from him. “Such a nice ass, Trish.”Patricia felt so comfortable. Mr. Krushank was being.