
Victoria had finally looked up from her reverie and spotted her two male friends, the one human, the other canine, and headed instinctively toward them. It always made her feel good to talk to Mr. Wright, even if he often did seem a little strange. Sometimes Victoria wondered why the man seldom looked straight at her while they were talking but always seemed to be staring at his fingernails, or the sky, or his dog.
"Hi, Mr. Wright," Victoria said in that clear soft voice that sent chills up and down Ben's spine whenever he heard it. "Hi, Prince," and the young girl gave a delighted little laugh as the big dog ran eagerly to her and jumped up with his feet on her shoulders to lick her face.
"Down, Prince!" Ben ordered. "You're going to get mud all over Victoria's sweater." But what really bothered the middle-aged man was the way Prince and the girl were romping together, Victoria's playful motions causing her full, taut breasts to jump and sway excitingly inside her thin white sweater.
Oh Christ, Ben thought to himself, she's not wearing a bra! The playful scratching of Prince's paws across the nubile young girl's lush breasts had caused her nipples to harden slightly and the sharp little tips stood out clearly through the flimsy synthetic material. For a moment Ben even thought he could see the darker shading of the areolas through the soft white wool. If there was one thing that had turned Ben against Women's Liberation, it was the no-bra movement. God, it was just too cruel a torture to let all that hang loose in front of a horny old man like himself.
