On occasion James was known to wear a Euro-style bathing suit to work, the kind that was not necessarily a Speedo but was close. Fair is fair, right? He allowed her to work herself up a little more before he took hold of her tank top and pulled it over her head. He took a soft cheek in each hand and lightly massaged the skin. As he suspected, a shower was running with no one using it. “Ok,” he said, his palms raised. It seemed to him like a party full of newly finished high school grads would be as good a place as any to find a willing piece of ass. He pushed his thumbs under the elastic strap of the suit, breathed deep, and pulled it down to his ankles. “Then no, I haven’t,” she replied looking over her shoulder at where he was trying his damnedest to make a fresh hickey on her right ass cheek.
