”She smiled. “Yeah, I have a young lady runs a print shop back of the Embarcadero. She’s good and reasonably priced, too. So, tell me about yourself, Paul. I have known several Brits, but none with your cute accent. Where are you from, exactly?”We then spent a pleasant hour chatting, sharing our life stories, plus a mutual interest in electronics, though mine was merely amateur tinkering, building simple radios from designs in Practical Wireless magazine.I told her about my fairly traumatic start in life, about my Uncle Henry and all that he’d done for me. I told her all I knew about Birmingham and the wider Midlands region, she told me about her life. She was nearly 28, a few years older than me; born locally, she had attended Stanford University and had gained greatly from what she described as the amazing efforts of the Provost, Frederick Terman.“He even invested some money in my company, Baytech Electronic Research. He’s a truly inspirational man,” she explained. “He actually. She was sat on one of the chairs as I put my hand on the back of her neck, she was smiling at me.I crouched down and liftes up her chin, she smiled and we kissed. As we kissed I slipped my tongue into her mouth and she did the same back. I slipped my hand down her Indian dress onto her breast and she moaned, as I fondled her tits, circulating my fingers round her hard nipple she moaned again. standing up and moving behind I found the zip to her dress.As I pulled down the zip I slipped my hands inside her dress and onto her tits, removing her bra I rolled her nipples in my fingers, she moaned and said "My husband won't touch me anymore". I told her to stand up, as she did I pulled the zip all the way down and told her to stand out of her dress, she did and she was wearing a matching red bra and panty set.Still feeling her tits from behind I ran my finger down to her knickers, up and down her crack, she moaned. turning her around and sitting her back down I couldn't get to her pussy.
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