Looking into the window reflection, i can't tell what's going on but i can feel his hand moving up towards my pussy.I did not no what to do. I can mak... a scene?. Or let this man have his way. The confusion and arousal makes my heart run even faster. I'm starting to sweat more and breathing heavily.My pussy is anticipating the touch. I feel that l'm getting wet just from the thought of being touched in my intimate parts by a stranger. A stranger with big rough hand. His fingers moving inches. "My name is Anetta. I've been listening to your broadcasts for weeks. I was waiting for you to arrive, but you took longer than expected."Anetta was a plain woman, clearly French. She spoke without an accent, so she'd apparently lived in country for a long time. She had a round face but wasn't overweight. But the sincerity in her eyes was striking, as was the assurance behind it."Sorry about that. Traffic was a killer. Sadly, no one was moving, so I had to take the long way around. By the way,. More

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