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I kinda figured it was between the two of them, so I stayed out of it until he drew back his fist and punched her - or tried to. I stopped him with his fist about an inch from her face, then I got up in his face and told him to back off. I should have realized that he was too mad and scared to listen to reason, but I was new at this stuff, and thought I was being a hero.Anyway, when he tried to turn those fists against me, I threw him up against the wall - without touching him - and held him. It's not so funny to laugh about now. Like bringing a snowball to congress.The drive up was normal. The first night was normal or, if it wasn't, I don't remember. We stopped at a liquor store and, finally legal, bought a handle of vodka apiece which we promptly emptied half of before the night was out. Tom and Not-Not Harry attached themselves to us early in the night, fiddling with the strings on our hoodies and stroking our hair playfully while Marissa and I tried to hold a conversation. But. As she stood up, the sunlight cast an x-ray-like beam from behind her and I realized that she was wearing a long sleep tee which hung almost to her knees, and obviously nothing under it. She came around and stood before me. She never left my eyes, but mine wandered. She started to gather up the material of her tee on each side and my eyes hungrily followed the slow rise of the hem as her thighs were exposed. My mouth was suddenly dry and I licked my lips as she continued to let the hem of her. " Simon gave her an extra squeeze, which immediately made my wife yelp and uncross her legs. Her hands darted to her sides as Simon, grinning like mad began to stroke her thigh, my gazed moved to her heaving chest, her nipples were clearly visible, poking out from her bra. Seeing this Simon immediately started squeezing her firm breasts through the material of her blouse.My wife's gaze went from her thigh to her chest and then she looked up at me with a silent "help!" in her eyes but all I.
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