The man to your right, accidentally (on purpose I am presuming) brushes your right thigh with his left hand. Your leg responds to his touch by rising ... little from the seat and your knees spread ever so slightly. You continued to sip your after-dinner liqueur and as he brings another magazine from the seat pocket in front of him he grazes your thigh again. And again you respond by spreading your legs just a bit further apart. The man to your left wants to get into the act and he leans forward. She talks nice when she’s in the mood, raises very high expectations but cannot live up to any of them. She’s a disaster in organization and never keeps an appointment, always has to re-arrange and postpone. She is a pathetic liar and pretender.She has two k**s: a son of about 24from her first husband and one of five (who’s obviously not made by her actual husband) who’s a rotten spoiled neurotic, impolite and antisocial k** who’s completely fucked up by her over protection and possessive. Smiling Emma did the honors. She drew back the shoulders and held the fabric by the crook of her elbows. It opened the dress to a full frontal nude view of her body. There was not a lick of anything under the dress. Pink and ivory were the dominant colors, stark against the rich blue of cloaking fabric. Her skin tone and feminine areas were pale pastels, harmonious to her true blonde status. Emma waggled her hips to draw attention to her display. The dress flaps cascaded a shimmer behind her. I didn't understand how anyone as good looking as Landon wasn't choosing his next conquest. "You?" There's a girl..." I immediately regretted the reveal. For sure Landon had fucked someone and I didn't want him to know I hadn't."Tell!" he perked up with a punch to my arm."Just a girl I like. Going to ask her to the spring dance." This was actually the truth."Look at you, all suburban cliché!" Landon had told me in our texts how he longed to live in a big city. Funny, it was easier to be more.
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