She was wearing a white cashmere sweater and a short skirt—wool plaid, in muted tones. She unhooked the skirt and let it drop. The sweater left a fe... inches of her lower tummy showing above white satin thong panties."Well, for looking at," I said, swallowing hard.She hooked her hands behind my neck and pulled her legs up as my hands slid to her ass to support her."What else?" she whispered."Squeezing." What else?" Justine was nibbling and sucking on my ear lobe."I'll show you."I carried Justine. They moved out of the open air, where at least they could see where they were, into the forbidding shadows of a copse, where a crater and the remains of a fire-bombed jeep reminded them that war was still not that far behind them. They rested together, relying on each other for warmth and comfort, each being a pillow for the other's weary head, too exhausted for Tracey to make love to Buttercup: an ambition which had so often surfaced in her thoughts as she admired her lover. And soon they were. More

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