Nor me. I killed hard the thought of Ronnie getting one before it took hold.Silk ivory camisole and a skin tight pair of silken knit bellbottoms seeme... to be all that our hostess wore. No lines anywhere. I Looked. So did Lu, but he was less obvious than me. A single gold clasp held her hair bunched down her back reaching mid shoulder blade.“Do come in and be welcome. Anya, drinks please for our guests.” Lu took the offered chair and Ronnie and I shared the couch.Anya was a pretty eighteen year. Frankly, it was weird having a somewhat clinical conversation about the sugar bowl…After a time she focused in on what kinds of women I was targeting on the site. I gave her a long and detailed de***********ion of my early experiences…When I finished, she pointed out to me that the women I focused on bore more than a passing resemblance to my ex…and she encouraged me to expand my horizons. That was probably the best advice I ever got (except maybe her original referral). I started targeting. The dress hung off of her upper arms, and it clung to her curves like it was painted on. It hung down to the tops of her knees (and what nice knees they were!), and she wore an anklet on her right leg. Her high heels were tied up her calves and she held a matching purse in finely manicured hands. And her hair! I love hair. Her hair just hung! I’m sure that the golden streaks were natural – they had a similar sheen to my own hair – and the deep brown curls hung to her waist. The volume and body. I broke from our sweet embrace and kissed her chin, then her neck and traced a line of little kisses down to her chest where I took one of her sweet nipples onto my mouth and began to twist the engorged, straining flesh around with my tongue, sucking it further into my mouth.I opened my lips into an 'O' and continued to draw her sweet breast fully in then, when I could hold no more, slowly released it until, once again, my teeth retained her nipple.Clamping down on it I stretched it outwards,.