Cammie was a beautiful thirteen-year-old. She was going to be tall, already about five-eight, breasts that were slightly more than a handful, and I ha...e big hands, though I'd never gotten them on Cammie's melons. Her hair was black as midnight. Right now she had a short, almost boyish cut, but it used to hang just below her shoulders. A few light freckles and a break in her left eyebrow completed the picture. The break came from a bicycle accident when she was six. Cammie hated it, but I. I think it helped.Chris seemed calmer, he held me tighter and tighter before whispering thathe was glad I was there for him, that he still had me and he kissed me, onthe mouth which greater and greater urgency until I realised what kind ofcomfort he was looking for.I'd known that as Chris's wife I was going to have to make love with him,I'd been hinting that we might leave it until the wedding night - to giveme more time to prepare.Looking back, I suppose I'd loved him since wewere kids and if. More

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