I have no idea what the antique cars are worth, but I’m going to propose that we purchase a mailing list of their subscribers from one of the auto m...gazines.’ Paige was removing the jacket she’d worn to the game the night before. She tossed it in the back and perched herself on the bench seat, facing me. I looked at her, from the leg that was folded under the other one, to the way her jeans hugged her thighs, to the light sweater that was stretched across her breasts, to the way her long neck. Our eyes locked and she smiled. I think I smiled. More likely, my jaw dropped open on the left side, giving me a dumb, lop-sided grin that I can’t stand but always end up with when my guard is down. She stifled a laugh. This was bad.“You know,” I said, gesturing to the painting in front of me, “This represents a fear of the unknown.” The painting was a dark maroon rectangle, with a single yellow dot in the top left corner.“Does it?” she replied, her eyebrow arched. She moved towards me like a. I'll fix the system." Thank you, and its pronounced Julianne," said Ricardo sternly."Sorry just missing a letter or two," said the woman, fixing thecomputer erroe. "My apologies Miss Ross. We'll seat you immediately." May I take your coat, Miss Ross," a man asked."Of course," said Ricardo as the man gently lifted the coat from hisshoulders, sliding it off and handing Ricardo a small coat check tag"Follow me please Mr. and Mrs. Ross," said the man, pointing his handforward."After you dear," said. I love to wear mini skirts that show off my long slender legs and firm, muscular thighs, with nothing on under them except for a skimpy g-string. I love to wear thin cotton blouses open to show a lot of cleavage. I never wear a bra. I haven’t worn a bra since my titties became big enough and firm enough to fill my blouses out without help. My mother, a very sexy lady in her own right, always told me as I was growing up, “if you have it, flaunt it,” and at forty, I still had it. People that.
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