“Coffee?” I asked, a little half-heartedly. Indian sex Her left hand stroked back and forth on my thigh. Maybe it was her perfume). “Here, let me,” she said. Had Sandy slipped something into my General Tsao’s Chicken when I was in the men’s room? The flame I felt for her flickered. “Nah, natural talent.”
“Very talented.”
“Your smell is driving me crazy, Sandi.”
“I’ve got some talents, too. Suddenly I felt her red-tipped fingernails dig into my jeans. “Nice, nice,” she murmured. Who was I to deny a lady’s request? The romantic tone seeped into us, as we sat against the wall of a not-very-crowded theater. I just stared at her. We stamped our feet, stuck our hands deeper into our pockets and prayed the line would start moving faster than the frostbite that, I was sure, was rendering my fingers useless even before I got them into her panties.
