At Panera’s this morning there was a woman and a teen-age athlete (knew this from the school name and sport on his jacket) waiting for their take-out orders. An attractive blonde came in whose jeans were so tight, they could have been painted on her skin. How she got in and out of the car without bursting a seam, I don’t know. How she breathed. . . you get the idea. The waiting woman took a long, hard look at her back side, then looked away. The teen was trying to look any where butt there; I think he’d just signed a chastity pledge.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
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