‘Stop that! I mean where do you want me to take you? You asked for a ride. You must need to go someplace.’ ‘Oh, just drive up toward route 22.�... But he didn’t take his hand off her knee. She put the car in gear and moved slowly and deliberately out of the parking lot. They weren’t even up on the asphalt of the road before the young man had moved his hand to the hem of her skirt and gone underneath. Now his hand went to the inside of one of her soft, creamy thighs. She slapped at his hand and. He moans softlyas his penis swells expectantly, hugs her closer to him, sliding his hand down the smooth cool length of her hip, stroking possessivelyrunning his rough worn hand down the side of her firm young calf, marveling at the feminine combination of strength and delicateness; she reaches her other hand into the space between his back and the couch, and he moans softly -- she giggles wickedly and slips her hand lower, down into the back of his sweatpants, tickling his buttocks, wiggling a. More

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