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She’s still up at U.C. Davis.”“I know! Shut up and give me a hug!”“Oh! Sure!”I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tight against me, squishing her tits against my chest. (Note to self: no bra!)“You smell of beer! Can I have one?”“Of course!”“I know where you keep them,” she told me as she headed towards the kitchen.I stood watching her lanky body glide towards the fridge. She moved like a model on a runway, swinging her hips widely. She pulled opened the fridge door, but instead of bending at the knees to reach into the bottom drawer, she bent at the waist. Her rather short skirt rode up her thighs and gave me a delightful glimpse of her tight little rounded rear end. Lucky she never looked that tempting as a teenager! (Note to self: no sign of any underwear. Thong a possibility.)She turned back towards me, twisting the top off a bottle of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and I had a good look at the movement of her swinging tits under her T-shirt.“Sit down, Johanna. Tell me what’s going. Near the dress was also a matching set of sheer black lacy bra and panties. Seeing Marcys undergarments on display like that really hammered the point home for Paul: they were really gonna have sex again. His stomach sank, though whether it was from a sense of self-loathing, or simply the blood racing to his cock, he couldnt say. He continued on to the closed wooden door at the end of the room. He opened it. The bright florescent light of the bathroom was much harsher than the muted light of the motel room itself. The noise of the shower was quite clear now. Paul tried to peek inside, kind of like he wanted to know what he was in for before he gave away his position. But it was no good, the shower was clearly on the hinge-side of the door, hed never be able to see anything without actually stepping in to the bathroom. So he did just that. Gingerly stepping through the door, he turned to discover that the shower barrier and swinging door were both single panes of clear glass. Inside,.
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