Indian School Teache

We swam for a while, floating on the floaties, soaking up rays. We drift and float continuing our conversation. I see Betsy and Jeff sitting and chatting on the front bench seat together while the music plays. A gentle breeze pushes us away from the boat. I can’t hear Betsy or Jeff. Lisa too has drifted farther from me and it’s hard to hear each other. I paddle to her. She grabs my raft and pulls us together. Her head is at my feet and visa versa. I hold her raft too, every once and awhile, a wave from a boat on the main lake passing by breaks over the raft and startles her. The cold water on her chest raises her nipples. I notice that her bathing suit is riding up her crotch. It’s tight against her and the water helps to show the outline of her pussy. Her lips are noticeable; no sign of a bush. I’m sure she catches me staring at her. Occasionally she adjusts her suit, but only makes it more taught against her skin. Watching her wet, sexy body is turning me on. Only the cold water. The contrast between her skin color and the pure white blouse set her tits off like an artists masterpiece. The bra had bumps in the front so even if her nipples were not hard; it looked like they always were. Under her skirt was a tiny red thong that wasn't much more than a string as it went up into her ass crack. Brooke, as always, was dressed to kill. The general manager's office was quite large and well furnished. He had a large solid wood desk and a rug on the floor. There were also a couple matching wood file cabinets, two leather chairs and a leather couch. It had two windows, one to the outside and one into the hall that went to the back from the sales room. "You are responsible to the damage to our car. How to you think that we should solve this problem?" Frank said while staring straight at Brooke's tits. "Why don't you have a seat on the couch and we will figure this out." Brooke sat on the couch. Her skirt was about mid thigh and her legs were slightly parted. .
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