You wriggle in their embrace, tickled by their fingertips and the tingle between your legs.The shorter man behind you is stocky and strong. He smells ...f the ocean, of oil and sweat. He's dressed in jeans and a nice shirt. You really only notice the bulge in his denim. He reaches down the sides of your legs and slides your dress up your body, rough fingers on smooth skin. Legs, thighs, hips, waist. His hands stop at your breasts, the dress bunched above his fingers. He squeezes your breasts. .. " he gave a wink.Against my better senses I stopped him, opting to have him tow the damn car back to the house.It was an ugly drive back home, the three of us in the tow-truck's cab. I was the honorable father, crawling in first to ride between my daughter and the stranger. Even with all the room by the door, Linda kept trying to have to wind up sitting in my lap. The tow-man had the radio and the heat cranked. He kept taking big sniffs--with the heat, Linda was emanating a bold scent of. More

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