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And what's more I think that reading helped me a lot in my writing. By the time we had got together I had sent some of my short stories off to various magazines and a couple had actually been accepted and published.From the day I'd met her, Aileen had always shown enthusiasm for my writing. She encouraged me much as - I suspect - she'd encouraged her brother Duncan in his writing efforts. She loved to read the drafts of my tales of woe and would often offer suggestions on how to improve them, usually by adding more romance to please the female readers.I suppose I should describe Aileen to the reader or they might not understand what was to happen later. Aileen was - much like her brother and myself - rather shy by nature; as I said earlier most folks would have described us all as geeks. At that time, Aileen was not what most folks would refer to as a looker either. Not that that bothered me, because beauty is always in the eye of the beholder, isn't it?About five six tall, I think. This had her pussy right at the edge of the bed and wide open. I had never been this close to a naked woman before. I looked at her saggy tits and her light brown bush. I thought her pussy was cute and my cock got really hard really fast. It was making a tent in my shorts as was Mikes and George. George reached over and rubbed his finger around his granny's pussy and the lips opened, like a flower. He stuck the tip of his finger around her hole and put the tip in and rolled it around and pulled it out. Granny's pussy seemed to be getting wetter but she was still snoring up a storm. George told Mike to put his finger in her and he did then George told me to which I did. Granny's pussy was soft and warm and I liked the way it felt around the tip of my finger. I pulled it out and smelled it and it smelled great. My dick was now hard as steel. George then dropped his shorts allowing his cock to stand straight out, he put some lotion on it and started to stroke it. After a few minutes.
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She remembered too. She often imagined she could still feel him removing her shoes and stroking her legs, his fingers walking their way up towards her pussy. Her legs were very sensitive and she had squirmed as his fingers tinkled her shins. “Lie still,” he had told her. How she loved the authoritative way he spoke. She had found a certain inexplicable pleasure there beneath the tress trying to do as he had asked and lie still. His hand had lifted her frock right back until it hung loose around her neck. Her body in its entirety was exposed to the daylight and to anybody who might be passing by. With satisfaction she had noted the in-take of breath as he caught sight of her handiwork. She had shaved herself that morning, knowing they would be laid together on the picnic blanket. What she had not expected was for things to unfold quite like this. Awareness that they might be seen had increased the value in the gift of herself to him. The way he.

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