It had been a long, slow night and it was getting late - so late it was almost early. She was thinking about turning in for the night when she saw him...watching her from across the street. She smiled to herself; he looked like just her type. She dropped the half smoked cigarette onto the pavement and stamped it out with her red stiletto shoe. Pealing herself from the wall she wiggled her hips and pulled downwards on her obscenely short skirt, to little effect. Nothing much was left to the. Her outfit was revealing though not enough to appear overly slutty and had nonetheless remained a permanent fixture of my imagination the entire evening. But all of this paled in comparison to the morning after. I did not wake when she had rolled over into my arm nor when she first whispered my name. She ran her hand from its place on my chest down my stomach to my inner thigh, and that had roused me first. With a smile she took her hand and began by caressing me, she gently kneaded me until I. More

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