Bags discarded and wine poured, we settle on the sofa, you laid between my legs, and catch up with each other. Our lives tumble from us, our worries m...lt away, our stresses evaporating as we talk. The conversation turns to us, to how long it’s been since we saw each other, since we were able to indulge each other…The rain starts to fall hard and heavy, deceiving the still blazing sun. The pregnant drops pelting the thin windows of the loch-house, drumming against the old wooden ledges. You. ‘Graymoor?’ Abris repeated with some excitement in her tone. ‘Yes, of course I’ve heard of it! I have met a few others from there too. I bet you have a lot of stories from such a place.’ She looked back a moment and tilted her head at Singear. ‘You look like you have a lot of stories.’ Rather than sounding cruel or sarcastic, she sounded attentive, almost like a little kid, and thus her tone almost sounded like a solicitation. Perhaps making conversation in Abris’s mind meant hearing such. She was excited!She was wearing an attractive white blouse under which he could make out beautiful white bra. Her jeans clung to a gorgeous arse. She was not a big girl, but she curved in all the right places! Lovely pert breasts, flat stomach and fit, long legs. He circled around her and kissed her hard on the lips before pulling away and looking at her. Without a word, he unbuttoned her blouse. No resistence. God, she was good looking, one of those rare women who looked fantastic either in or. It changed everything between us. I couldn't see Emmie as just an innocent little girl any more. She tended to wear simple dresses in the house, somewhat oversized dresses held up by shoulder straps, or held up by an elastic band that fit around her chest just above her breasts. And when she bent over, like when she was on all fours on the living room carpet, playing with her dog, she would reveal cleavage. And with her D-cup breasts, that was quite a lot of cleavage. I started glancing at her.