She undid all the buttons and left the blouse hanging from her shoulders.“Happy birthday.” She spoke pushing her chest forward.I sat there looking...as usual.“You can touch them if you want.”“If I WANT? Are you joking?”“No. Go ahead.” She said chuckling.I reached out and touched her breasts. They felt wonderful. I had never touched breasts before and it was better than I ever thought it would be. I ran my hands over the globes, feeling her protruding nipples under my hand.“Five minutes is up,”. And when he moved them, all they did was kiss my nips, without sucking. He held my ass with one hand while with the other he fumbled with the side zipper of my skirt, finally getting it open and letting gravity take it to the well worn carpeting.For my part, I began to open his belt, but he didn't seem to want my help. He led me gently backwards toward the bed and guided me down onto it, not even bothering to pull down the covers. As I lay there, spread-eagled for his inspection, covered only. She asked for cash, and the bank official presented her with a vinyl bag full of one-hundred dollar notes. The official lent her a telephone and the yellow pages. She found a room on the West Side. She arrived at the hotel tired and a bit confused. She asked for a room with an additional bed where the baby Imam could sleep.She questioned the abruptness in which she left. She wanted no part of her husband. Her bruises still hurt where he had beaten her. She hurt between her legs. It all happened. Yet, here she was, here we were, kissing.She pulled back only a fraction. Her eyes fluttered open and I saw more in her gaze than I wanted to.Jordan had been subtle when she came onto me. She used the opportunity of the game at the pool party to touch me in ways that would stir my lust and push me over the edge of controlled restraint when she dragged me away to get what she wanted.Danielle was smitten. It was the best way to describe her. She came onto me directly and held nothing back in her.