You can't get dressed like this and feel comfortable if you are all sticky," she stated."Now I want you to go over to that bench and let me be sure yo... are all washed off before you get dressed," she ordered.He thought she was going to bring him a washcloth. He walked over to the bench and sat down. He looked up to see her standing by him."Please, lay back on the bench and let me do my job," she stated.He felt a little confused by her statement, but he did as she requested. The bench was wide. Sam tapped again.“You’ve lost that privilege,” Donna panted.His body fought hopelessly against hers, “Then how do I get out?”“Kiss me again,” Donna stuttered, her face reddened.Sam’s lips touched her again, this time at the hemline of her short shorts and then on the red fabric between her legs, “Fuck…” she mouthed, her body unable to take the stimulation.Donna swung her legs over and released his arm, “Please don’t tell anyone about this,” she begged, desperately self-conscious of her. More

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