" Coming dear" I called back."Hopefully not yet" she replied quickly.Tonight she was in work out clothes: bike shorts and a sports bra, both featuring...a black and purple camo pattern. To complete the look was a white gym bag resting casually over one shoulder. No one would have suspected the naughty toys hidden within."Looks like we get sporty spice tonight" I joked."No, you don't" she responded cheekily "this is all for Susan."Several minutes later Jessica was emptying her bag onto the table. "Out of pickles and low on gas d'er, b'ye?" Who?" asked one pilot, but the other hushed him immediately."We could use a hand. ID yourself."Suddenly all four men gave a shout of surprise at once. The silhouette of an Archerfish-class Patrol Combatant flashed dimly and briefly – and was less than 10 metres from the nearest Star Arrow's starboard side, looking long, lean and lethal. In the brief flash of navigational lights before the form rejoined the inky blackness of space, they spotted "PC-022. There she was standing at the kitchen door dripping wet, her T-shirt clinging to her small, firm breasts, nipples hard and pointed. She was Georgie, the object of my every waking lustful moment asking ME for help. I couldn’t believe it. It was 1975 and all summer I had watched her from my bedroom window as she lay in her garden tanning herself whenever the weather allowed, wanking myself DRY thinking about her luscious body and what I would do to her, given the opportunity. I was a pretty. When I was about to feel it, he stopped me and said that so much to be done before that. Hugging me tightly and our hot bodies rubbing, I entered into a lip lock session for few minutes. He asked me to open my mouth and thrust his tongue inside exploring my mouth. He made my tongue dance with his and exchange of saliva. He said,” it’s known as French kissing. Like it?” I was in a hurry to go ahead to the next level. I was nibbling his ear, smooching over his chin, neck and the flat chest with.