"Would you like me to bring you a towel, you know, to kind of cover yourself with?" Um, yeah, maybe you better. There's quite a few people and, well, ..., um, yeah, a towel would be nice. Thanks, Sarah, you're the best."She waded out again and tossed me the towel and asked, "Was that because of me, Will?" Uh, well, Sarah, you've kind of changed some since last summer, I mean, well, you have." Oh, Will, I've changed quite a bit from last summer. I intend to show you just how much. Now, let's get. It was so delicious. It turned me on even more, when I could hear people walk past the bathroom, talking and laughing, while I was trying not to cry out from him hitting my g-spot over and over again.He was getting close, I could tell. Speeding up, everything more urgent, his forehead against mine, sharing each other’s breath, hearing every murmur and gasp, even the sound of my wetness as he got deeper and deeper inside me. When he moaned my name I put my hand to his mouth and “shhh’d" him like. Bless his heart. He didn’t shush me or tell me to grow up. Instead he just held my shoulders like his daughter had held them a few hours past, listening to me babble. He didn’t even wipe my tears away, letting me do that myself.He just listened.When I finally ran down I felt so hopeless that I almost sat down on the floor. I know I swayed.“Come on,” he said, and pulled me into the kitchen where he sat me down at the table. The car had been warm, so I wasn’t wearing a coat when I jumped out of. Come on big guy, show us what Emma's talkingabout," and on, and on. So to shut him up, I pulled off the baggysweater that I had been wearing and exposed my chest and bra. Eric'seyes were, like, bulging out of his head as he saw my 36C cups with alittle soft flesh bulging out around the sides and top of the whitecups. He was sitting next to me and he reached over and cupped my leftbreast. I slapped his hand away and said, "Now, now, you can look butnot touch," and then continued, "OK Emma, I.
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