" Let's go to my place," she replied. "I make a mean latte, with milk that's really hot." The last word was a sharp exhale.Shit! She was inviting him ...o her place? For coffee? For a bend over and fuck me, more likely.She didn't wait for a reply. She led Smith away from our lanes, up the stairs and out the door. Any resistance on his part was feeble, because she led him out the door despite their relative differences in height and strength. Must not have been trying too hard to get away. I. My mom told me to tuck the shirt into my boxers. I did and thankfully was finally able to put on my pants! Now these pants were the stylish ones remember, dear readers? Snug fitting above the knees with bell-bottoms. Stylish was what Betty had called them. I threaded the belt on and figured out the buckle. You slid the end of the belt through it and pulled back on it to secure it. I reached for the sneakers and my mom handed me a pair of socks saying, "Put these on first, Honey." Great, light. More

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