" Your mother's name is Jen?" gasped the woman as she suddenly became very pale. "Is she here in Paris? How is she? I want to see her!" I'm afraid tha... can never happen," responded Paula softly. "Steve's mother died in a car accident when he was 14. Did you know her?" She's dead!" sobbed the woman. She slowly began to collapse, but Steve stepped forward and caught her. He gently helped her to the chair Jen had been sitting in while trying on a pair of shoes. By this time, huge gut wrenching. We sat down and had our drinks, but it did not take long before we set the drinks down and were kissing. Fred was kissing my necks and unbuttoning my blouse when I muttered we shouldnt be doing this since we were both married. He agreed and kept kissing me and working my shirt. That was the most resistance either one of us put up that night. He got my shirt off and started rubbing my tits through my bra. He was kissing me all over, my lips, neck, and cleavage. Eventually Fred stopped and pulled. More

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