Around thirty minutes later, the sound of her car in the driveway broke inon my reverie. I moved into the house and took her in my arms as sheentered..."Hi, sweetie!" she said, hugging back. As we disengaged, she headed tochange from her work clothes--a well-tailored suit with tasteful stripesagainst a navy background on knee-length skirt and matching coat over asnow-white blouse. Over her shoulder she asked, "Pour me a glass ofwine?" as her fuck-me pumps' heels clacked over the hallway. Hell, I'd won on both counts. Vicky was almost eighteen and she had grown into a gorgeous young woman. She still had her pretty round face, cool green eyes, red hair cut square to her shoulders now. But she had sprouted up to five-six, a hundred and five pounds which she carried very well. Today she was wearing jeans and a sweat shirt, bra underneath, and sneakers. Even in casual clothes, there was no denying her long legs, great looking hips and ass, slender waist and good breasts, all in. More

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