The guy dropped a few coins in her hand, looking offended. ‘Why on earth would I follow you? Are you accusin’ me of bein’ a stalker?’ Greg was secretly delighted that he had found her again, and harbored tentative hopes of actually becoming friends with her. He studied her once again, delighting in her natural beauty. She had long layered hair, with a variety of tints. Overall it was a golden blond, but he saw hints of auburn and dark brown as well. Her eyes were a grayish blue, and they reminded him of the sunburst cut of a sapphire. She wasn’t overweight, but she wasn’t a stick either. Her upper arms were toned, and set off by a simple silver band on each. Right now her face was set in a frown, but he saw definite evidence of laugh lines. She was definitely American, which intrigued him, as American teenagers were not very common London coffee shop employees. She made no attempt to imitate a British accent, but she seemed to know the slang pretty well, which meant she had lived. She reaches under the armrest with her right hand, gently brushing over my area in my shorts with her fingers. She puts her hand in my boxers, tenderly rubbing my genitals and tickling my trimmed pubic hair with her fingers. She holds my penis as it grows in her warm, soft hand, rhythmically squeezing my swelling shaft until erect. She pushes her palm against the base of my cock, juggling and massaging my jewels with her slender fingers. Next, she slowly strokes my shaft between her thumb and the tips of her fingers, from the base to the corona and back again. I barely even notice the credits start rolling until she pulls her hand out of my shorts. ‘See, that movie wasn’t so bad,’ she whispers in my ear as we stand up. ‘I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t paying much attention to the movie,’ I reply honestly, to which she snickers cutely. I wrap my arm around her and hold her close as we exit the theatre, the dim parking lot helping the bulge in my shorts go unnoticed on our way to the car..
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