Birds singing and the faint smell of the dew.Finding that nice quiet area she loved Kimmie settled down on the bench. It was a little damp but she was not worried, adjusting her skirt and hold ups to get comfy she undid a button on her blouse to let in just a little cool air. She opened the bottle of water she had in her bag and took a mouthful letting a little drip down her front just as a jogger was near her.He stopped and looked at her with a smile and said "Do you mind if I sit beside you?" "Of course", not she replied patting the space beside her. The guy sat beside her, he was in shorts, trainers and a white t-shirt that stuck to his firm chest due to the heat from his body. "You don't have a spare bottle of water by any chance do you?",he asked. Smiling she leaned forward and got a bottle out of her bag, she passed it to him brushing her hand across his hairy thigh as she let go of the bottle. Her cool hand from the bottle made him flinch a bit. As he sipped the water. PLEASE. Lick my nipple, please." And then, remembering the story, she asked, puzzled, "Horny? What kinda story is this, anyway? A mother and a son? And she has to pee? Is this an incest watersports story. You some kinda PRE-vert?" Martina licked her lips and rolled her eyes, indicating how shocked and morally outraged she was.Lightly licking one, and then the other nipple, I continued, "So she just out and announces to her son -- without looking at him -- that she has to pee." Oh, racy, racy." Shut up and listen, woman. I may have to spank you at this rate," I threatened in my best oil-can Harry voice. "The son had been walking behind her for a reason. From time to time the afternoon sun shown through her dress, outlining her long legs."With a big-eyes look of surprise, Martina asked, "You *sure* Nancy Friday wrote this?" Kinda. I may be buffing it up a bit, but who cares?" Not me, big boy. Buff away. So, what'd she do? Piss in her pants?" No, my little pants wetter. What she really.
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