Charles and Amy guided the guests to their seats, where green salads waited. Once everyone was at the table, Robert, the handsome house manager, serve... wine. Jen hung back, unsure of what she should do or where she should sit.As Amy sat, she looked up at Jen, smiled and said “you should sit here” while gesturing to the armchair in the middle of the scene. Jen felt a sense of foreboding as she contemplated the chair.“Before you sit down, Jen, please undress,” Charles added. “Let everyone see. ”“Will you at tell me why you are doing this?”“No.”“Will you at least tell me how to get to your house?”“You don’t remember?”“I really didn’t think there would be a repeat of last week.”“There won’t be.”Pam gave me directions as I drove. This time I paid attention, just in case. When we arrived, I was mentally patting myself on the back when Pam took my hand.“Will you please come inside and spend the night with me, again?”“I’ve been thinking about last week. I did enjoy it. I’ve discovered over. That kosher?" she said with a smile."Well uh yeah. That's more than kosher," I said. I couldn't stop staring at her fucking boobs.She then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and slid them off. And I about had a fucking heart attack. Bridget stood in front of me in black bikini underwear and a black bra that showed off every amount of cleavage and thighs you could imagine from top to bottom. I stood there staring at her. Her stomach wasn't "flat" but it wasn't heavy. Nice firm thighs, bigger. If Flubberguts was still available when she was of marriageable age, no matter my feelings about women in general and marriage specifically, I'd marry her. She was as uncomplicated an individual that you would ever like to meet, not an iota of spite or mischief in her luscious body. Her breasts never did stop growing just the rate of growth decreased. Even at fifteen she was almost as tall as me and she told me with total honesty what she felt about absolutely anything. And I could still call.
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