Just a touch... feather-light...softas silk. Your unencumbered palm brushes against my thigh. I sigh softly.Did the sound touch you in that special pl...ce where only I can reach?I dip the stopper once more. Your hand trembles. "Don't spill," I whisperagain, as I place a second drop on my manicured digit. Then slowly, youreyes following my every move, I slip my finger between my breasts...sofirm...so prominent in their black lace bustier. I hear you groan."Don't spill," I repeat, my voice a. We didn’t try to make out with them or make love to them but let them luxuriate with showers that had unlimited hot water and shampoos that made them smell fresh. We just held them with us as part of our extended family.I’m not that keen on parades. All the devotion of those volunteers who decorated forty-some floats with fresh flowers. Marching bands. Drill teams of horses decked out in show regalia. It seemed like such a waste when stacked up against the horrors of what the service had done. She pulled her cell phone out and showed him video (she had taken) of Billy stealing panties from her panty drawer. His face began to turn red and she told him the following story "My older sister told me about this crazy Slumber Party she went to about 10 years ago. She said this guy had a panty fetish and his name is Billy. What a coincidence, that's you! Well, that story me so HOT that I decided it would be fun to try it again." Billy look confused and at that moment his front door. She was magnificent. No man in his right mind could resist the way she looked. Once Barbara arrived downtown she parked in a parking garage and walked out to the street. It was nearly 10pm and the streets were starting to quiet down. Barbara wasn’t exactly sure what to do first, so she hailed the first cab that went by. Upon entering the cab she noticed right off the big black man that was driving. There was something about black men that struck a nerve in her. She liked the way they reacted.