I pressed my hand in to the softness of her rear, gently rubbing at an imaginary stain. "What is it, what've I sat in now?" she asked."Oh it's just so...e mud or something, I can get it off, just hold still a minute."I rubbed and squeezed the delightfully soft and pliant flesh of her arse, moving closer to her so that my tits were once again pressed against her. My other hand was casually resting on her hip, but I gradually slid it upward towards the swell of her boobs. Again I locked eyes with. She was in Martin’s car and he was driving out of the pub car park. They had met two hours earlier and been talking ever since. He was medium height, well-built but not muscular, with wavy brown hair and blue eyes and he was fun. That was the main thing. Her kind of fun.It’s a word that can mean various things to different people. To her it meant he was intelligent, verging on intellectual, but not too serious. He knew about things – lots of things. He knew about music, about film, about sport. More

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