“I’m William, but you can call me Bill.” “Amber,” she said, offering her gloved hand again. This time I was smart and kissed her hand. She ...miled prettily and said “Sit down, Bill.” We made some small talk. I couldn’t stop staring at her huge, beautiful white tits, or her luscious, curvy legs, which she kept crossing provocatively. She must have caught me staring, because she squeezed her breasts between her hands and asked me if I liked what I saw. I said I did, and she ran her left leg up. I got glared at by my older brother, I was a full minute late, which I knew never set well with his obsessive/compulsive nature. I said “Sorry, took a bit longer than I thought” and sat in the empty chair beside Arisol. Dinner went smoothly, or at least seemed to. We chatted about family matters more in depth than during the initial visiting; it seemed that Ken, their son, had really left because of his mother and how she had “taken care” of him during his teen years. I. More

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