I slid my hand up under her skirt, past thesmooth tautness of her stockings and stroked the warm smooth skinbetween her stocking tops and her girdle b...t she held my hand."Very nice. I can see you like me but that's far enough." She put ahand at my own crotch. "Yes, I can see you're ready, but have patience,George."I kissed her breasts again then we just lay in each others' arms.When I commented that I needed to go into London again to see mypublisher her eyes lit up." Gosh, London, I'd love to. I ordered a bourbon and she asked for one as well. I paid for both and we toasted to new friendships. As she got out a book to read I couldn't help but notice her choice of literature, Christine Feehan was the author, a familiar title printed over the drawing of a pert dark haired beauty. My smile seemed to bid the question and she asked why I was smiling like a cat who was about to pounce on the mouse. “Oh, nothing really, its just that she is my favorite author. I love that part of the. More

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