"You ever read anything by Nancy Friday?" I asked, cupping the swell of her tit at her side."Yes... but sometime back. Wasn't she the one who wrote ab...ut women's fantasies?" Not to be denied long, she reached for and tweaked her own nipple, pulling it up and rolling it between her thumb and forefinger."The same," I replied. "Did you read the story -- or was it a recount of a fantasy? -- about the woman, a mother as I recall, who was wearing a long white dress and who went walking with her son. .we both know you want to," Jane said."Are you sure? That's so wrong, fantasising about you is one thing, wanking over you in the flesh is a different matter completely."As I stood there talking, Jane's hands were wandering over her body, gently rubbing her nipples through her bra, I could see them grow as she teased them. Her other hand slid down her toned stomach and she started to rub her pussy through her thong."Well you just stand there and let me enjoy the view!" She said, biting her lip. More

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