‘Please,’ she said. Ian slowly removed her clothing, piece by piece – first her dress and shoes which left her standing in her pink underwear an... stockings. He looked at her and drank in how lovely she looked. Then he touched her breasts through the cups and stroked her nipples. Kissing her again he clasped his arms around her back and undid her brassiere. She let him slide it down her arms. He looked at her again. ‘I’m so glad you didn’t have any breast job done,’ he said. ‘They’re beautiful. I'd had little to do with escorts and prostitutes at her level; I certainly couldn't afford them on my salary, I'd mentioned to her, which made her laugh."So I can take tonight off on my income taxes?" she joked. "Write it off as charity for a poor serviceman, who's depraved on account of he's deprived?" There it was again, another flash of knowledge I never expected her to have. Who would expect a quote from "West Side Story" from a Manhattan escort?"Maybe I can send you a bill?" I. More

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