Our tongues were sparring and my hand was up under her sweater, holding one of the plump round breasts she herself had liberated when I had had a bit ...f trouble with the bra catch. The breast felt so cool and smooth and unexpectedly weighty in my hand that I wanted to see it; I pushed up her sweater to look and was not disappointed. It was beautiful, a big scoop of the smoothest, silkiest ice cream, round and creamy white and topped with a juicy maraschino nipple. I lifted it to my lips, kissed. I stopped again to add copious amounts of cream and sugar to my beverage before going to sit down. “Hi, I'm Stacey,” I said as I reached out my chestnut colored hand across the table to take her creamy tan one. She looked Hispanic on closer inspection. What I liked about her outfit was that she wore a buttoned front top that was almost totally sheer under her cardigan sweater. She smiled at me after I sat down. She knew that perky tits were a requirement to spend time with me No one was. More

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