The bra strained in its appointed role, struggling to contain her impressive pair of firm, rounded breasts. My eyes were involuntarily drawn to a subt...e hint of perky nipples, pressing outward against the stretchy spandex top. Forcing my gaze upward, she had a pretty face, perfectly subtle makeup, and a cute upturned nose that added to her youthful looks. A beam of afternoon sunlight cut through the kitchen window, lending a golden shimmer to the subtle curls of her long blonde hair. All she. Chicago was even more crowded than before. The traffic congestion choked all the freeways and Lake Shore Drive. People were getting upset with the slow movement of their cars as it was go a few feet, stop, wait, go a few more feet, stop, and wait again. She flew up and down Michigan Avenue to see a few new stores, some protesters in front of a store specializing in fur coats, and crowded sidewalks. It was wall to wall people. She hovered over a newspaper stand to see the Middle East were not in. At fifteen years of age, I was now effectively a warlord, and it happened almost by accident ... almost. I was no mere scrawny lad anymore. I was lord and master of all that I surveyed, a tribal chieftain, if not a king, despite it being 1992.The spirit had as much as confirmed to me that the old order, the Western, liberal, democratic order, was doomed, anyway. Instead of letting it fall to the usual jaded oligarchs, they preferred to hand it over to me, a teenage boy (at least in body, if not. She groped until she found the vibrator, and she ran it up and down her slit, coating it in a slick layer of her juice. She used one hand to part her lips, and she thrust all six inches of the device deep inside, moaning her appreciation. She flicked a switch, and Nick could hear a low humming as she thrust it in and out. He bit back a moan as he watched her. Her back was arched, with one hand on her breast and the other manipulating the vibrator. Nick stroked his cock, his eyes never leaving.