She hadn't given a damn eight years ago, so why would she now?He threw some money on the bar and rose to leave. Right then there was movement at the e...trance. A blonde woman in a gray sweatshirt and jeans walked in on pink sneakers. Her hair was in a ponytail; it gave her a young and natural appearance. She didn't wear make up.It took him seconds to recognize her. She also hesitated before walking over. "John?" she asked. "Olga," he said. He just stared and so did she. She looked pale, he saw,. As he did, he could feel thebeginning of her G-string. It barely covered her mostprivate parts, concealing but revealing at the same time.Moving his fingertips under the edge of the G-string, Donnyfound wetness--wetness far more creamy and smooth than thelotion he had been using. Exploring further, he foundanother furrow, one that was wide and gaping and slick withjuices. Donny knew what it was, and his hands trembled fromthe knowledge. He knew that last he had his hands on hismother's. More

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