When I started wiggling my butt, it was the signal for him to get out of his bed. Wordless, he approached me and ran his hands all over my body. He k...ssed my neck and whispered sweet nonsense into my ears. He let his hands glide under my blouse and unzip the bra. “Have you had guys back home?” “Hmm, I did…..and you? I whispered back. He cupped my breasts and played with my nipples. “A few….” He pressed his hard groin against my butt. “Every time I did it, I was thinking about you.” He. The owner of the face was a woman in her late fifties, her greying hair done in a tight bun, who sat leisurely but with an elegance that belied her age sideways on one of the desks in the first row. Anne was busy pinning huge sketch sheets to wooden stands and gave me a short wave with one hand. ‘You’re Miss Summer’s model?’ The lady wanted to know and looked me up and down with an intensity as if she could see right through me. ‘Uhm, yes, Ma’am,’ I stammered, suddenly feeling five inches. More

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