She glanced at the clock one more time, just to make sure that it really was seven o’clock, but the red glowing digits on the night stand indicated ...hat now it was seven-o-two and counting! She stretched out, trying to get the circulation moving through her body, and felt her white cotton bikini panties pressing hard against her bulging vulva. The mere pressure from the thin material was enough to flood her vagina with pussy juice, causing her to automatically slip her hand inside her undies. When I put the cup of coffee down in front of her I noticed that she had quit writing and was again giving me that same quizzical look."You sound like quite a catch," she smiled. "Are you are involved with anyone?"Now it was my turn to laugh when I explained, "No, I have been too busy with my business. When my wife left me I was a poor, struggling insurance agent. She got a five-year-old Ford, a small two-bedroom house with a big mortgage and no alimony. No kids, hence no child support. It was. More

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