"Mr. Ben," she squealed. I stopped for a moment, and then continued. She always protested, and I always pretended to stop. When I started again, she l...t me go further. After a few moments, I had rubbed my hand all the way into her shorts. I began to stroke her panty clad girl-pussy, ever so lightly. Tammy squeezed her legs shut, trapping my hand inside. "You shouldn't do that" she said, quietly. "Tammy," I answered, calmly, "if it doesn't feel good, I will stop." She didn't answer, and I took. Unlike the others who wore sandals or open toed shoes for spring, the brunette had donned a pair of tan suede or leather boots. Her below-shoulder length hair dangled behind her as she sat precariously without a care at the cafe.So, it was in the midst of this quartet of young women, I made my introduction and sat. We ordered and chatted. I was talkative, but only when it came to asking them about the girls' lives and feigning interest in their activities and hobbies. By now, I was used to. More

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