"Lynn was embarrassed, but Mel knew Rebecca was just trying to pull their chains, and she was having none of it."Give it a rest, Hampton. We all know ...hat a babe you are, but you're old news. You're marrying Bob, for goodness sake; you're off the market. Not to mention being on the wrong team in the first place. Christine is an unknown, young – not that you're old, you're not – and even though Lynn and I train for a living you're probably in the best shape of all of us. Hell, I could break a. “I guess,” I said. “There’s coffee in the pot. I just put it on a bit ago. Help yourself.” She did so.“And Cherry?” she said, heading back into our mini-dinette.“She’s shopping,” I said. My sort-of daughter nodded.“Just wanted to drop by and congratulate you. Cherry’s clued mom and well, we were all kinda surprised,” she said.“Okay,” I said.“Dad are we okay?” she said.“It’s relative, but yes, more or less, I guess,” I said.“You’re my father, not more or less my father,” she said. I didn’t say. Tossing the knife to the side he grabbed both sides of the bodice and ripped it from around her body. She began to moan then as the lust and desire were beginning to pulse through her body. He began kneading her breasts, pulling her chemise down to find her breasts. His tongue began to circle her nipples, first on then the other. He began to playfully bite her breasts and neck. Her hands began to explore his body, moving across his back feeling the muscles move under his shirt. His shirt was. But I didn't shift, rooted to the pavement, captivated by the carefree manner in which her fingertips floated to undo each button of her blouse and shed the garment, seemingly oblivious to the outside world. My stare blazed a trail from her sculpted abdomen to the swell of her chest, its slope so full and inviting beneath the cherry bra.Her lips moved, as if talking to someone out of sight across the room; maybe comparing notes with her husband on their respective days, or deciding who was.
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