Under cover of the tablecloth, Mel rubbed her slimly-muscled thigh, allowing her fingers gradually to move up to her crotch, drawing her skirt up with...them. She made very sure I saw what she was doing, and that when I glanced at her, I also got a good look down her cleavage. By the time we were on dessert, a wonderful cheesecake Jenny had made — her speciality — Mel's skirt was nearly round her waist and her fingers were clearly visible rubbing slowly at her pussy. She obviously had a set: she. Henry still put me to shame. He stood there looking at me as he toweled himself off, his long, wet curly hair hanging in front of his eyes. I felt strange with him looking at me. It felt strange also that I did not mind him watching me strip down to my underwear. "You Randall's son ain't you?" he asked, his deep voice carrying across the murky water of the creek."Yeah." I said flatly."You look just like him." He said, brushing the last droplets of water off his right leg with his towel.I smiled. More

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