She straightened her skirt and sat right across from me. She stretched out and pulled off the sweater with only the black vest underneath. I couldn't resist and gobbled the beauty of the show chest. Such would deserve to be carved in marble and stored in a museum in Louver or Florence. Probably she hadn't nursed any child, and if so, it was probably no thirst. But I was thirsty for her. She spotted the direction of my gaze and smiled. I was a little uneasy, mainly because worries began to happen in my shorts, which could be easily seen on the light canvas shorts. Instead, I pulled out a sports newspaper and pretended reading.