With one motion Camille drew both garments back and off her. Now she was nude from the waist up. The man gave a faint moan at what he saw. Camille’s...breasts seemed too lovely to be real. Ripe and jutting straight out, the flesh at the apex was formed into a perfect cone of amaranth pink, with faint rosebud nipples at the tips. ‘Come to me,’ said the girl in a throaty voice. ‘I want you now, reverend. Oh please hold me, love me, don’t make me wait!’ There could be no disobeying her, Reverend. At that moment she pointed across the street at a jeans boutique. We went in and I insisted that she try on a pair of jeans that showed off her ass and hips perfectly, though I was sad to see her legs vanish into the narrow, washed denim. She shed her tourist t-shirt and shorts for a pair of very hip jeans and a tailored t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up and somehow emphasizing her small perky tits. She had pulled her hair back tighter and was looking much more cosmopolitan, like she belonged. More

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