She stepped back and ran her hands over my upper body, my chest first, then stomach and finally up to my shoulders. “I’m glad I asked for a paddli...g picture. Dang.” She squeezed my shoulders and then ran her hands over my upper arms.“I would have shown you earlier but I didn’t realize your taste in men was so superficial,” I joked.“Yup. That’s me. Seriously, mister, you really fill that shirt nicely. Wrap me up,” she said and stepped in close again, resting her head on my chest. I flexed one. She was always so shy when she had to ask people for something."Wait a minute. I'll check out if it is possible. Please wait outside the door." There was a small bench in the hall, right outside the door, where she sat down. And she was very uncomfortable for more than half an hour. Not that the bench was uncomfortable, far from it, but she had a feeling that everybody walking past her was staring, wondering, or criticizing her appearance. The elderly lady's 'a minute' had turned into 40. More

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