Wendy started to shake slightly against me as I moved it further up her smooth, toned thigh, getting nearer all the time. And then I reached her thong... pushing it aside and contact was made at first with the curly wisps of her pubic hair, then against her pussy lips, swollen and warm in her own state of arousal. She let out a moan of approval and I knew I had her. I gently worked my finger inside her hot little pussy hole, already soaking in her own love juices and eager to be filled. I. “I’m John Henry Bartlett III,” he began. “Bart.” A flush sprang to her cheek and she grabbed the doorway for support. “You may have heard stories about my grandfather, John Bartlett, Senior, who I believe was once in love with your grandmother.” “Oh, my God…” she said. “Are these my letters?” John nodded. Rose flushed even deeper, which John thought made her look even more beautiful. “My grandmother talked about him all the time once the Alzheimer’s took hold. She used to tell us the most. More

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