The smooth white skin,the curly blonde hair, and the small flat stomach...In essence, the perfectwoman, or at least, HIS idea of the perfect woman!He ...ooked at himself in profile, then from the back. No matter what angle,the reflection in the mirror was still a young, beautiful woman. He ranhis hands slowly over his breasts again, and he caught himself smiling atthe stimulating feel of their perfect roundness. As he was standing therelost in thought at the smiling image of this sexy creature. Only to realize I was surrounded by people with their backs turned to me, no-one was paying any attention at all. His large, firm hand paused when flesh met flesh - I hadn't been wearing a bra - and he quickly took advantage, grabbing the whole of my large breast into his hand and squeezed it possessively. I arched my back, pushing my chest into his hand, silently begging for more. I could feel my panties being soaked by my arousal, my tongue was aching to feel the ridge of his cock head. "I-Is there anything wrong, Mark? I mean... how does it look for them?" God, hon, I really can't say," he answered, his voice straining for an uplifting tone, she thought. "I'm trying to pull all the strings I can. How're they doing, anyway? Are you all getting along together?" Y-yes... yes, of course! W-We're doing fine, dear," Dianne finally got out, guiltily wondering if that might not be the greatest understatement she had ever made to him. Oh God! "But... but... Mark, they just can't send. He let that run for a few minutes, admiring Zefferilli's camera work, the clashing music and Taylor's over-ripe body as Kate threw things about, and then stopped when she fell back laughing, and put in another tape. "Now, this is different, it's Cole Porter and a musical, and if you'll listen, some pretty funny stuff." He played the "I Hate Men" sequence. Most seemed to watch, squirming a bit. Broadway was so old fashioned, words you could understand, rhythms and rhymes."That's Kate, the shrew,.