Now she altered her mode of washing. Moving back up Anita’s flanks to her shoulders, she brought her mittens down the front of Anita’s chest, soap...ng and massaging her breasts gently. She could feel Anita’s nipples hardening to the touch. Leaving one hand to move across Anita’s tits, the other slowly snaked its way down past her stomach, to her neatly trimmed crotch. Caroline was amazed as Anita smiled softly and spread her thighs even further. Caroline became bolder, and began to move her. A leather jacket, perhaps anticipating a cool climate, or perhaps just her style. Her hair. Her face. Just like the picture. And then she saw me. Our eyes met. Not the proverbial romantic moment, but a mutual smile of recognition. Of being pleasantly surprised that sometimes pictures don’t lie. The conversation was lovely. Just like our e-mails, but with her voice speaking them out loud. Her accent, to me sounding so exotic, and yet to her, my North American voice was equally accented. We. More

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