"Imean ... Mr. Davenport."His Adams apple bobbed up and down before a little smile broke acrosshis face. "Of course, Stephanie. I just needed to check...on somethinghere first." He slowly pulled his hand from between my legs, fingersgliding over the top of my thighs. "Would you like to come inside for amoment? Maybe get something to drink?"I nodded, licking my lips. "That would be great. Thanks."We went into the house. Right off the living room was a sports roomwith a pool table, a large screen. The symphony of moans continued. She seemed to feel comfortable with me, or maybe she wasn't paying attention to me because of the pain in her ankle."Thank you," she said, and pecked me on the cheek before slumping down on her bed."Let me see your ankle," I said."Nope," she shook her head, her eyes twinkling mischievously."Why not?" I think I know what you want to see."Her hands slid under the hem of her t-shirt, stayed there for a second, and then pulled it up slowly, revealing a lack of. More

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