“So, what? You wanted to stare at my tits, is that it? Gross.”Again, her mocking words spurred him into action. Why should he just stare? He rearranged things until one arm barred both her wrists, and brought his other hand down. Her breast filled his palm with plenty to spare. Her creamy skin slid under his fingers, and her flesh was gorgeously soft as he gave her a good squeeze.With a wince, she flinched away from him. “Oh my god, are you really that desperate to touch some boobs?”He retaliated, taking her firm nipple between his fingers for a long pinch. That made her gasp and wriggle. Her back arched toward him, as if to lessen the pressure. Then he went right back to kneading her, rubbing her. She’d been nice to look at, sure, btu it felt even better to touch her. Yes, her breasts felt nice, but it was more than that. Every cringe fed his lust for retaliation. Finally, a chance to get even for all her mocking and teasing.She turned ever redder as he continued. “Alright, you’ve. I liked to think she knew I was there. And deliberately bent over, showing me herself like that!Honestly, I figured it was a fluke. She was just getting her towel. That's probably all it was.But it was a nice fantasy: It excited me to think she knew I was watching, and liked it.There were other odd things too. Linda would invite over a new flock of girls... well, women, to swim. They were of that wonderful age where they were both: Childlike and playful, yet fully grown and very sexually desirable.Oftentimes, Linda would start the "snatch the swimsuit" game, wrestling with a girl in the water, pulling the girl's bikini top off and throwing it out of the pool and it's owner, trying vainly to cover her breasts, would run out and get it.But more often than not, Linda would throw the suit top (or bottom!) toward my side of the yard. It would land just under where I was sitting, right beside the fence that divided our property.And a half-naked girl would climb out of the pool and run right.
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