Copyright © 1997  Master Wade.  ALL Rights Reserved.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
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MRWADE.324                                                                                                     By Master Wade



Taking A Few Liberties

Copyright Wade Mondegam 1997



"Taking a few liberties, aren't you?", she asked, as I caressed her bare thigh with my hand. We were on our first date, an afternoon drive in the country.
	"Yes, you could put it that way," I replied, enjoying the drive. I always enjoy it when I can drive with one hand and touch pretty legs with the other. Her legs were beyond pretty, they were incredible.
	"Well, I don't remember saying you could," she said, sounding a bit testy.
	"No, I don't remember that either. I don't think I've ever seen shorts as short as those, or legs as beautiful."
	"And that gives you some right to play with them?"
	"The only rights I have are the rights you give me."
	"That's exactly right!"
	"I don't see you moving my hand."
	"No, but I probably should."
	"Maybe. That miniskirt that you had on the day we met was wonderful, too."
	"Yes, you told me. Twice, I think. In the first ten minutes."
	"Oh yeah. Well, it was."
	"Thank you, again. But it won't work to change the subject."
	"Who's changing the subject?"
	"You are. What does that miniskirt have to do with you feeling me up?"
	"Oh...am I feeling you up?"
	"Aren't you? It sure feels that way to me!"
	"Yes. Feels good, doesn't it? I love it."
	"But you keep missing the point. Why should you assume that you can feel me up?"
	"Who says I assumed anything? Those legs were made to be touched. You think every woman has legs like those? I never assume. I make choices and act on them."
	"So you chose to play with my legs?"
	"Exactly."
	"Because they were made to be touched?"
	"Yes, and because you love it."
	"Oh, I do, do I?"
	"Yes. And I do, too."
	"Oh, I'm sure you do. I can tell. As if other men don't. Or wouldn't."
	"Yes...wouldn't. If you'd let them."
	"That's right."
	"You're letting me."
	"I am?"
	"Aren't you?"
	"Well, we're debating that at the moment."
	"Yes, and in the meantime, I'm having a wonderful time feeling you up."
	"You're incorrigible."
	"Uh huh. I am. So tell me...if you didn't want me to touch your legs, why did you wear shorts that barely cover your...uh...why did you wear shorts that short?"
	"Maybe they're comfortable."
	"Maybe. But it isn't as if you didn't know how much your legs excite me, is it?"
	"Well, no. That wasn't hard to tell."
	"Never is, for you, I'm sure."
	"I do get noticed at times."
	"Uh huh."
	"I don't think you should go any higher than that."
	"If I do I won't be touching your legs anymore, will I?"
	"No, you sure won't be."
	"Well, thanks for giving me permission to play with your legs."
	"I never gave you...hey...I thought I told you that you shouldn't go any higher."
	"This isn't much higher...it's sort of over to the right a little and up just a tad."
	"Yes, but your fingers aren't all on my thigh anymore."
	"That's true. You feel very warm there."
	"I think you should stop."
	"You thought I should stop playing with your legs, too."
	"I never said you should stop. I just asked why you thought you could."
	"That's true."
	"So are you going to move your hand?"
	"Shall I move it fast or slow?"
	"I MEAN are you going to move your hand AWAY?"
	"No, I don't think I will. I like it here very much. There's a certain eroticism involved with touching you here that pleases me very much. Don't you feel it?"
	"It was erotic when you were playing with my legs, too."
	"Yes, it was. I thought you might have noticed that. Is that why you're so warm here?"
	"You aren't supposed to know if I'm warm there or not."
	"Oh. And I guess I'm not supposed to know that you're wet there either?"
	"Oh, you are awful. You don't know about that."
	"If I rub you there you'll get wet. I do know that."
	"I don't think you'd better rub me there."
	"You didn't think I should touch you there either."
	"Well, you shouldn't have!"
	"Why not?"
	"Because it made me warm when you did."
	"And now wet."
	"Yes."
	"It isn't my fault that you're wet there."
	"Oh? And whose fault is it?"
	"Your legs."
	"Right. Blame it all on my legs. How can it be my leg's fault?"
	"They were made to be touched."
	"I know. So what?"
	"So I touched them."
	"You more than touched them, you played with them. You felt me up."
	"Okay, I admit it. I felt you up. I'm still feeling you up."
	"I know. And now I'm all wet there."
	"I think I'll have to finger fuck you now."
	"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary at all."
	"You've already come?"
	"No!. Who said anything about coming?"
	"Well, you said it wouldn't be necessary for me to finger fuck you. You don't want to come?"
	"It isn't a matter of what I want. That isn't the issue."
	"So you do want to come. That's good. I like it when a girl wants to come."
	"Who said I want to come? Tell me! Who said that?"
	"You're letting me rub your pussy through your shorts."
	"Well, I don't know if I'm letting you or not, you're just doing it."
	"Yes, and you're hot and wet. You were made to have your pussy rubbed."
	"I was made for many things, but that doesn't mean you're supposed to do them all."
	"I didn't expect to do them all. This is our first date, afterall."
	"It certainly is! I think you should remember that!"
	"Well, I'm glad you can at least admit that you were made to have your pussy rubbed. Do you always let guys play with your pussy on the first date?"
	"No! And I haven't admitted anything!"
	"I feel honored then. It's a good thing that pussies can't catch cold. Yours would have pneumonia as wet as it is now."
	"You don't know how wet I am!"
	"Do too. Look at these fingers. Look at the crotch of those shorts."
	"Oh geez...now I'm going to have to take them off and let them dry out."
	"Good idea. That means your panties are wet too, you know."
	"Yes, I'm not an idiot, you know."
	"No, of course not. I like you."
	"There you go again, touching me and feeling me up."
	"Well, you took your shorts and panties off."
	"But not so that you could touch me there."
	"Oh. But you haven't come yet."
	"Maybe I don't want to come."
	"Maybe. Is that why your legs are open?"
	"You pay too much attention to my legs."
	"If I hadn't paid attention to your legs in the first place,  I wouldn't have my fingers inside you now."
	"I know, and I wouldn't be about to come, either."
	"Maybe I should pull over and fuck you."
	"Who said I wanted you to fuck me?"
	"Who said I want to fuck you? I just said maybe I should."
	"Oh, you want to fuck me."
	"Do I? How can you tell?"
	"Your cock is hard."
	"My cock was hard when I saw you in the miniskirt. Maybe I should have fucked you then, too."
	"Maybe you should have. There's a place up there...can't you pull over there?"
	"Pull over? For what?"
	"To fuck me. You need to fuck me."
	"Why do I need to fuck you?"
	"Because I need it. Because I was made to be fucked. Because I was made to be felt up and made to be wet and hot and because I wore those shorts and have these legs and if you don't fuck me soon I'm going to straddle you anyway and put it in."
	"You're unzipping my pants."
	"Yes, I am!"
	"Taking a few liberties, aren't you?"
	
	The End







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