Throwing my phone on my bed, I rummage through my dresser drawers for sweatpants and a tank top. I get a sniff of my armpit while inspecting a t-shirt...and recoil. That’s six weeks of living out of a bag and sink washes if I’ve ever smelled it. Leaving my phone, I go into my en-suite bathroom and turn on the shower. Shedding my pants and yanking my shirt over my head, I try hard not to look at my body. The plane ride was uncomfortable for many reasons, most of all the bruises and sore muscles. Her hair was still a little damp and she looked incredibly sexy standing in my room wearing only her tiny panties. She sat down on the bench next to where I knelt and said, 'I want you to show me some 'special' excercises. I'd like to show you some, too. For instance, how about this one...' She took both my hands and brought them to her chest. She squeezed my hands, in turn squeezing her own titties. Her voice became darker, more breathy. 'You like that one?' She leaned over close to my ear and. More

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