I grabbed her hand with mine.“This is not a good idea,” I scolded. Amy bit down on her lower lip and whispered softly,“I just want to feel you.�...�“No,” I countered.Amy was persistent. She withdrew her hand from under the flap of my sleeping bag and in one motion, she stripped out of her t-shirt, baring her small 36 C-cup perky boobs.“Put your shirt back on!” I said.Amy fell on to her back and pulled off her shorts, then sat back up next to my cot.“Tell me,” Amy whispered, “I don’t have a hot. My eyes were drawn irresistably to June in her chair, sipping her tea, her eyes meeting mine now and again as the rain pounded down outside. Was there lust and fire there, or just a reflection of the lamp light? Was it an accident that her knees faced me, her legs slightly spread, the warm dimness of her thighs and her panty open to my eyes? Was it normal that her hands seemed to play over her chest, pressing her dress against her breasts, framing her curves and the points of her nipples with. More

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