I felt his fingers behind my knees and they traced a path up the insides of my thighs. I stopped breathing, hoping only that he would touch me. And th...n his fingers were there; first touching me through the damp fabric of my panties, and then slipping under the elastic. As his finger explored the folds of my most sensitive place, he stood slowly. His chest brushed against my nipples that protruded through the thin fabrics of my bra and tank top. His lips were on mine again and his tongue teased. Neal looked marvelously lean and fit, what little excess bulk he'd started out with whittled down by short rations and replaced by solid muscles built up by lots of walking and other heavy exercise. His hair and beard had grown long, starting to curl in a way that made her want to run her fingers through them. They were still shot with gray, but she'd be willing to swear that the roots were coming in darker all the time. What had been in that drink that the Elder Sister had brewed up for. More

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