I laughed, smiled, giggled, kept touching him and leaning against him, I talked complete shit, whatever came into my head, and he loved it all. It was...ironic that he was probably thinking "You're mine, bitch' and I was thinking the exact same thing. I told him I was a typist, recycling my pest joke and it seems a typist is a much sexier occupation than an accountant.By the time we got back to my place there wasn't the lightest pretence that we were there to do anything but fuck. This was a. She flushed a little and looked at me with her eyes wide, knowing what I must be thinking. She giggled and then smiled at me, then, clearly embarrassed, went to put her young son to bed. That night Anne came into my room with some laundry and a bright, eager look in her eyes. She was like a little girl and I noticed she must have removed her bra and sat on the side of the bed giggling and playing. This was perfect my sister was staying at her friends and it was Anne and I for the night. I knew. More

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