There was not much fat on her. She shrugged into my old shirt and looked down. It hung to her knees, and she quickly got her soaked skirt off, squeeze... it some and hung it on the tools beside the fire. She ruffled her hands through her wet hair and strode across the room to sit beside me with a smile on her handsome face. She walked like a big cat in her short boots. Her eyes were green; her hair cut short. She looked hungry."Where is everybody?" she asked, gesturing at the empty tavern as she. .I was bringing myself close to orgasm over andover again...teasing myself...and promising myself that I would not cumuntil I had a clear view up Bonnie's skirt again....unencumbered by hercrossed legs. From time to time I glanced up to enjoy the view and a fewtimes caught Bonnie glancing back at me and smiling. I wondered, perhapsparanoid, if she sensed what was happening and what I was doing. I alsorealized that I had let her engage in personal conversation with her friendfor well over a half. As she walked away, I could see my Dad looking at her magnificent ass through the shiny black panties. My Dad loaded the film and proceeded to get out of the car.My Dad and I walked past both cars and towards the gate. Susan stood there in her black panties and bra (I think rather nervously, which was unlike her) hands on her hips and said "Are you ready?" with a sly smile on her face. "If you are" replied my Dad. He looked over at me then, as if to get my acceptance. "Go for it" I said. . She rose to check the bottle of wine in its bucket on the bedside table. That was their one constant factor. Sometimes they shared the wine, sometimes only one was in a position to drink for both at the critical moment. It didn't matter-- Whoever drank, it set a sort of convivial, somehow wickedly sexy seal to the entire experience. She smoothed her black and lacy teddy over her flaring hips and then sat beside the window once more, twisting a lock of chestnut hair as she watched the snow. It.