I smiled, and she winked. She asked me to hold onto her "to keep my balance." I pointed to a pole and said there was room for her hand. She shook her head and said, "No, I think you'll do a better job!" I nodded, smiled, and reached my right arm around her waist. As I held her midsection, I could feel her breasts on the top of my forearm. The movement of the bus caused her mounds to rub gently on my arm. I liked it!She then turned her head back toward me and said, "Maybe it's best if I hold onto you!" She set her purse/briefcase on the floor and reached her arms behind her. She held onto my legs, freeing up my hands. I now knew she was looking for a public "experience." As such, I placed a hand between her thighs, expecting to find pantyhose all the way up her legs. NOT! What I found was stockings with lacy tops (didn't have to see them, just the touch told me so). The hem of her skirt rose slightly as I advanced toward her crotch.Where I expected to find fabric, I found a tiny patch. When he pulled the Escalade out of the parking garage, he nearly coughed up every last one of the aspirins as Hadley’s name filled the screen. Holding the phone in his hands, he wanted to give her a piece of her own sass and not answer. Who was he kidding, he picked up after the fourth ring, but didn’t greet her. “Marcus? Are you there?” “Hey.” A deep in drawn breath filled the speaker on the phone. “I was such a jerk yesterday, you didn’t deserve that.” When he didn’t say anything she kept talking. “I just…I don’t know what happened. Do you hate me?” He hadn’t expected her to say that, but she did deserve to know he wasn’t pleased. “No, I don’t hate you.” “What are you thinking?” “I’ve been wondering why you didn’t believe me that I liked your work. And you practically kicked my ass out of your studio.” She paused for a moment trying to figure how to say what she felt. “I can’t explain it, when I have shown my work to people up until now--they have always been so generous with their.
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