Nalla Ononnara Aunty, Park Il Thanne Irunnu...

Nowhere seemed right and all of it wasn’t where I wanted my hands to be. I decided to go for broke. One hand found a comfortable place at the back of her neck, twisting into her luscious hair, the other found the last button of her shirt at her navel. I deliberately slid my hand through the opening to her cheerleader firm stomach. The flesh beneath my hand was perfectly soft yet toned. My hand felt rough and calloused compared to its suppleness. Millimeter by gradual millimeter I stroked my hand upwardsHer hand was on my face holding me when my fingers first brushed against her breast. I nervously touched the under edge, testing for her reaction. Her breath was caught and held tight. When my hand finally closed over the small half apple sized mound her breath released in a sighing purr. I don’t know what it is about breasts that creates that primal urge to touch them. It felt so perfect in my hand, just enough to fill my palm. The feel of its shape and the small hard nipple permeated. Aside from that, however, everyone just assumed that lack of ambition and unwillingness to change were the reasons that Ken was still employed at a stepping stone carrier after nine years.Ken did not give his standard reply to Jo. Though there had been no repeat of whatever weirdness had come over him during the pre-flight, he still found himself oddly enamored with the plain-looking yet strangely beautiful young pilot sitting next to him.There was a physical attraction to her. He could not even begin to deny that. He could definitely see what George, Tommy, and the others had been talking about now. There was an air about her that just screamed sexiness and sensuality. There was nothing you could put your finger on that was a factor in this quality of hers, but it was unmistakably there all the same. It was like one of those optical illusions you sometimes saw in books or on chain emails. At first glance you saw what you were expecting to see, but after looking for a minute, after.
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