There was a dark sweat stain on her shirt between her breasts. Prominent nipples strained against the fabric of her shirt. She was not even close ...o being fat. Indeed, she was a rock. She had thick, muscled arms. Her face, flushed from exercise, was stunningly pretty. Looking me up and down she said, "you obviously don't work out Sweetie."She seized my thin wrists and said, "my God, you're just a little bird."Holding me by the wrists, she pinned me against a wall with my arms over my. Her lustrous hair hung to her ass but was braided tight against her head in deference to the heat. Her tits were high and small on her chest, but with large areola and pronounced nipples. Her lingerie was French, and she kept her pussy shaved almost bare. Cathy, by comparison, was blond. Her pussy was covered in light, wispy hairs, while the hair on her head was permed into a bunch of tight curls. She wore cotton underwear, and it was soaked through as much as her outerwear.Joanne watched from. I perceived him returning and kneeling between my legs, as he said, “I am going to penetrate you now.” It was at the same time a statement and a question. And once again, I was struck by the formality of his words. He didn’t say “fuck” or “bang” or “screw.” He was simply a gentleman. This time, however, there was no significant pause. True to his word, Ian entered me, and I welcomed him.Ian’s cock wasn’t huge, but it was certainly gratifying. His was right in that sweet spot between. By the time I made it into the shower, I had reviewed all the fact and tried out all the theories to no avail. I still had no idea. I did know that I was going to find out something later that day. The hippie pot grower was going to ID the big shot electrician. The electrician could make a deal to save his ass or not. It was up to him.As for me it was time to see which petty little thing I would spend my morning making a report on. A report was necessary for the insurance companies to pay off..