“So, what time would you usually come here, Gail?" he asked, interrupting my thoughts about the tingle on my arm, my breast, and the throb in my pus...y.“Ah, well… hmm, usually mornings, I think. Unless I have an appointment. When is the best time, Troy?" He knew exactly what I was asking and answered with a flirty smile. "Mornings are good. Always good trainers here. I’m here most Mondays through Thursday. On Fridays, I have my special classes, more advanced training. But, as I said, there’s. "Oh, really?" Kirsty objected. She leaned down from her position sittingon the edge of the little, wooden bridge in the never-never to whichJames had taken her. "Am I the one who's been screaming about ending itall off a three-foot high bridge?"James skulked away, trudging through the fine sand and the small streamwhich, by all indications, had once been a river.Kirsty looked down at him warmly, then down toward her crotch. For thefirst time in her life, she couldn't see it this way. Now, it. More

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