She notices and moves her hands to my thighs, teasing them with feather touches of her fingers."Ahhh," I cry, as my legs fly open wide, showing her my...legs all the way to my knickers. Her fingers glide up and rub my slit lightly. She's panting as I'm moaning. She's figured out that her touching me makes her feel the same things.She rubs harder and she moans with me. "Oh, Lydiaaa," I scream. Harder and faster she rubs, her finger pressing hard on my clit (and her clit, too, of course). After a. I held thebag up to her and asked, “You sure you should be shopping here?”“Very funny. Although, with the way things have been going for me, maybe it’sappropriate.”“What about that guy, with the Porsche, a psychiatrist or something?”“Yeah . . . It really didn’t work out . . . Our schedules, y’know.” She gave aresigned shrug. About halfway there I talked Frieda into stopping forbreakfast. Since the insurance company would be picking up the tab, I orderedsteak and eggs, and Frieda had toast and. More

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