She was 5’4” tall, red haired, freckled and built like a brick shit house. Her ample cleavage was exploding out of her low cut blouse and her jean... were so tight you could see Abe’s picture on the penny in her pocket. “Mrs. B. is never traveling with you for 1400 miles,” I offered. Danny snagged a huge sweatshirt off a rack and pulled it over her head. She not only hid her huge knockers but the sweatshirt came down to her thighs hiding the tight jeans. “Go ahead and plead your case,” I. "Tom couldn't help but notice that his sons were both sporting big grins. Suddenly he realized that he was smiling also. His guest also noticed.Ten minutes later, Tracey was watching her host make coffee in his rustic cabin. It wasn't rustic in a romantic way, but it was cozy. She was trying to clean herself up a little, without making too big a mess on the large, hand knitted, rag-rug. Her socks were wet, so she slipped them off and laid them over the boots she had set by the door. By that. More

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