Little by little my infatuation grew.It was 1978. I'll never forget the shirts she used to wear, the stripes accentuating her petite bust. The flared ...ants that climbed her long legs up to her gorgeous behind. Straight brown hair hanging past her shoulders. I watched her from my vantage in the back row, among the other trumpet players. Of course in time my mooning was noticed, and the guys in the brass section (and for some reason it was only guys, just as almost all the woodwinds were girls). He enjoyed giving her pain with her pleasure. He was still angry with her.He knelt behind her. He was now looking at her gorgeous pink flower. He licked his fingers, and softly touched her throbbing clit, and rubbed it. She gasped softly. It had been so long since they enjoyed each other’s touch.He started to push his fingers slowly into her wet pussy, and he rubbed her spot. After a minute or two, she fell on the couch since she lost the power in her arms. At that point, he stopped. Her butt. More

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