Every morning without fail, Amber came out of her house in a state of partial undress, shut and locked the front door before dropping the key back thr...ugh the letterbox. Then she ambled over to the bus stop and completed dressing. Each day she fed her tie around her neck, reaching behind to fold her collar down, thrusting her teenage tits out at me in the process. Sometimes her blouse wasn’t fully fastened at the bottom and I was treated to a peep of her belly as she stretched. Sometimes she. Since today was Wednesday, she wasn’t surprised when he called right after lunch. She told him she’d be waiting in the usual place and promised he wasn’t interfering with anything that couldn’t wait. In a way, she wasn’t lying. Although on those Wednesdays when he didn’t come, she went over to visit Mark. The sound of her fiancé's high-pitched, slightly irritated voice broke her reverie. "Gwen, where the hell are you, woman?" She stood up and stuffed her ‘Mets 1969 World Series Champs’ t-shirt. More

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