She arched her back, pushing her labia against the luscious fabric, imagining his plump, sturdy fingers caressing her with dexterity. She slid again, ...er clitoral hood anchoring softly against the swatch of lace and now her hands were against the slightly torn lacy v-neck where he had hurriedly grabbed her, clutching the sides of her breasts so that they were now exposed to the chill of the morning air, providing added sensory to her heightened state. She exhaled then inhaled once more, arching. Walking with his head down, preoccupied with the sweet memories of his two recent encounters, he almost ran headlong into a woman standing in front of the gourmet coffees. Actually she wasn't just standing; she was bent over, and her short tennis dress gave Tom a clear view of her legs, almost all the way to the hem of her panties. Just what I don't need today, Tom chuckled to himself, but he took a quick look anyway. Why would anyone wear something like that to go shopping if they weren't. More

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