The next day, her eyes flickered more and more, he watched her jaw moved up and down as if she was moving her tongue. He saw a facial expression, a wi...ce, as though she had tasted something bad. He thought perhaps her mouth was dry. He remained holding her hand, and smiling at her every time he saw her eyes flicker. Late that night, he saw them appear to be half open. He sat in silence staring into them, running his hands through her hair, smiling. It lasted maybe 10 minutes and they were fully. .. hope ... Bobbie can help me ... emulate your speech patterns. Uh, yes." Not bad at all, wouldn't you say, my dear?" Wide-eyed, Bobbie stared at me in total unbelief. "I would say you hit the jackpot, my dear, yes really and truly, the jackpot. He is perfect, or will be with adequate coaching." You never say 'fuck, ' do you?" I asked."Why of course not," he answered indignantly. "Why do you ask?" Because I do and it would be uncharacteristic of you to say such words. As I learn to speak like. I continued down her neck, pass her collar bone, and landed in the clouds. Her very, no, extremely tight fitting dress was like a second skin on her very supple breast, 34F's. Not quite as big as mines, but they were succulent on her tiny, curvy frame. My thoughts were interrupted by her voice. If it wasn't for the perversion in my head I would have sworn I heard angels. "Is there something wrong with my dress?!" Alarm sounded from her mouth. NO, I quickly interjected. Girl, you look great!. By the end of my shift, I was ready to thump my rod on the control board, I mean it was so stiff that a cat couldn't scratch it and I knew that going home and jacking off wouldn't solve the problem. What’s-her-face was going to have chip in for the good of Hank's jewels. I snagged her phone number, planning a rendezvous for later that afternoon. At about 2:30 PM, I called and she said that she was home alone and free for the afternoon. She gave me directions to her apartment and told me to.
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