She almost always had a very genuine smile on her face and kept her light brown hair in a not-too-tidy, not-too-scruffy ponytail. She was on the short...r side, barely reaching the height of my chest with her forehead. Her breasts were perky, but humble, probably in upper B-cup range; her most defining asset, however, was definitely her ass. No doubt shaped by hours of training sessions riding horses, it was a thing of beauty. Round and tight, it always seemed to nearly burst out of her jeans. " Change it? I'm sorry, I...." My lips kept moving but no sound was coming out.I'm a we'll-spoken, articulate person, but I don't handle confrontation well. My thoughts sort of freeze up on me sometimes, like some of those chat boxes on the internet.He gestured slightly with the cigar at the yellow legal pad in my lap, "Write these down. Juices, we already said that one. And add 'dancing.'" Dancing," I mumbled as I wrote."No more 'dancing eyes,' or 'our tongues danced together this and that'. More

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