" Mrs. Hardinger's words were tender and soothing despite her smoker's rasp- she was kind of babying Steve.Then Mrs. Hardinger, facing Steve, straddle... the chaise lounge. The muscles in her thighs and ass flexed through the sexy layer of fat and then her tits and butt and belly and the slight, only slight, those oh so sexy and slight dimples of cellulite of a mature experienced woman who knows and gets what she wants, jiggled and quivered when she set her right foot down. She then slowly. “Thank you,” she slid the card into her handbag.“I guess you’ve had those kinds of offers before?” she looked at her.“Si,” she swallowed, “but not like that.”Nicola stared at the mirror as she formulated her response, Danielle’s wide eyes seemed to draw her in. “I go to the square almost every Sunday,” she squeezed her thigh, “I stand under the obelisk and pray the Holy Father will smile on me. Tomorrow is Saturday, perhaps I will be there and we will talk, but if I am not I pray the Holy. More

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