Tom felt disgusted when not minutes later he again caught himself mid-sigh as he contemplated the fact that Paris seemed completely unfazed by their encounter, in fact if anything she seemed to have forgotten it entirely; which, when he thought about it, offended him greatly. He was far from forgettable; well that’s what women told him. A self-depreciating grin flickered over his lips and was gone, replaced once more with a sullen scowl. Scrubbing his hand through his hair, Tom’s thoughts turned to the bed he’d crawled out of at some ungodly hour this morning. His lips pulled into a grimace as he tried to remember her name…Charlotte? Didn’t really matter, he thought, she was interchangeable; a warm body to lose himself in. He glanced at his watch for what felt like the fifth time in as many minutes. ‘Where is she?’ he grumbled under his breath. With a grunt he angrily kicked a small rock out onto the sand and watched moodily as a flock of seagulls swooped and haggled, before. My hands ran over her smooth feet. I began to work it between each of her toes, each hand's movement mirroring the other with one foot in each. “We were cut short last time weren't we?” Laura asked. “I kinda feel bad for not seeing you in so long after what I promised you… and I wouldn't want any tan-lines. Would I?” I looked up at her as she reached behind her head to untie her bikini top. The strings fell over her body but the top remained, held in place by her perky tits. She grabbed the top and pulled it over her head revealing her perfect B-cup tits to the warm sun. Her nipples were light pink and hard. She cupped her tits, one in each hand, reaching her thumb and index finger towards her nipples and began to pinch and twist, making them stiffer and more appealing. I reached up towards those tits, those tits that I've thought about so many times. My hands were still slippery and covered with the sun-screen. My hands rested on her tits and began to rub and massage the sun-screen.
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