45am was early for Emily. She did love her bed. In contrast, Ava was always up at the crack of dawn. Up, showered, dressed and done with breakfast quite a while ago, she busily followed her sister passed us and went to the fridge to get herself am isotonic drink and energy bar. She was in her tennis outfit ready for her lesson. A pristine white top, figure hugging to show off her sports bra underneath, one of her many pairs of Nike shoes and a short skirt. Her top and shirt had a peach trim and matched closely the colour of the ‘tick’ on her shoes. Always co-ordinated. As the fridge door opened she bent down to collect her drink from the bottom of the door. I glanced over. She was facing away from me and as she bent down so her ass shot up in the air. Her short skirt raised up and revealed her cotton panties. Frilly cotton panties. It was a lovely ass. Ava was athletic with well toned legs, a trim torso and a perfectly rounded ass. My eyes widened for a second as I took. We had only about fifteen minutes before the girls were required to be in the house for the night, a requirement on college campuses in the early 60s. This time our kisses were passionate bona fide French kisses. By the time she had to go into the house saliva was sagging down both of our chins. As I remembered Garth saying, “I’ve wasted two months, tons of dough, and haven’t gotten so much as a hand-job from her,” I thought she doesn’t seem so frigid to me.The fourth time we went out she welcomed the caress of my hand on the outside of her breast. While necking during the fifth night out she even sucked in her chest to allow me to get my hand inside her bra. I remember how small yet how soft her breasts were, and how her nipples seemed to harden against the hollow of my hand. Also, as I fondled her breasts she was much more passionate, our kisses turning into a marathon of twisted tongues, moans, and sighs, where our noses served as snorkels.When I slid my hand up the inside of her.
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