I want your tits pointing straight out and available for my hand.Fingers? Neck? Oh, yea, I can do that. Available for what?His hand.It was a very warm...hand that touched my left tit. He slid his hand under my tit, as if weighing it. I recall wondering if it passed inspection or not.It must have, because he began to rearrange it. He squeezed my tit. Pinched the nipple, which just happen to be hard and very aroused. Then he bounced my boob up and down as if he were dribbling a small ball attached. Hmm…well you can pick your friends..but..“Would you like some coffee? I usually drink espresso.”“Great.”“Milk, sugar?”“Plain black and don’t call me Sugar.”“Oops, sorry,” I replied jokingly.I went into my kitchen from where I had a partial view of the studio. As I waited for the coffee to boil I could see her looking at the many drawings, sketches and paintings in various stages of completion that decorated the walls. I’ve always been a collector and the studio was filled with curious objects. More

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