Looking at her tiny mosquito-bite titties with her nipples standing quite taunt under her blouse, she obviously did not have a bra of any sort on."Int...resting," I said. I reached running my fingers down along her face to her chest and fondled her tiny breasts. "Is this something that you wanted to happen?" "Oh…yes, it feels so wonderful," she gasped at my touch. "May I touch you?" You like this do you?" Without a word, I took her hands and placed them on my breasts as my nipples stiffened like. I was in a long-term relationship, one which began in middle school and ran until well past college. My lady-friend dropped the bomb on me one day, the I-need-some-space-for-a-few-months prelude to never seeing someone again. I knew I wouldn’t, and I didn’t. I was twenty-five, alone, and a little sour. My wife, on the other hand, was a victim of a drive-by boyfriend in college, one who helped himself to her virginity with pledges of undying love, and then broken it off, cleanly, so as to cause. More

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