They walked home, stopping along the way for Freida to hear the latest gossip from Eloise Borkus, the widow on the corner, who had an excellent view of everyone who came by from four directions and always seemed to know who was stepping out on whom and which couples were headed towards divorce.When they got home, Peg said, "879. That makes 1726." 1626 what, Boopsie?" Steps. I gotta go baffoom."Freida eventually found out that it took Peg 847 steps to get to the park that day and 879 to get home, partly because of the detour to Mrs. Borkus' and partly because of a butterfly Peg tried to catch. Peg evidently had the ability to set up an automatic counter and would count anything she felt needed counting. Which was pretty much anything that happened more than twice.If Freida had been a modern mother, a generation younger and brought up in the good old USA instead of the old country, she probably would have convinced Peg that what she was doing was impossible and talked her out of her. The aromaof my arousal filled the air around us.I heard him inhale deeply, and his body froze for a heartbeat. His hand,his mouth, his whole form. Then he started fondling and kissing me witha force that took my breath away. The pawing at my chest becameanimalistic in its need. His other hand had moved down to my ass,fingers slipping below the waistband of my panties, cupping my ass in agrip that was pure possession.I moaned again, widening my legs to hook them around his hips and drawhim in against me. The towel around Tony's waist did nothing to hide howturned on he was. I could feel his hardness pressing against my soppingwet pussy with only the thin satin keeping him from penetrating me."Goddamn, I want to fuck you," he breathed in my ear, rolling one achingnipple around with this finger and thumb. "I want to fuck you so bad."The small room was saturated with the heady musk of my juices, keepingthem concentrated. Each breath I took smelled like the aftermath of amarathon rutting.
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