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Marsha was no classic beauty, but I thought she was pretty and exciting. She had the quiet presence and allure of a reserved Asian woman coupled with the strength, self-confidence, and independence of a woman who grew up in the California public schools. She also had long legs that ended in a firm, round ass and a trim waist. She usually wore dark blue or black, close-fitting, well-tailored pants with flowered, silk blouses that really showed off her best assets. Her breasts were small, but full, round, and perky, with long, thick nipples that her thin, colorful blouses highlighted, rather than concealed. Her best asset, though, was her long, jet-black hair that swayed back and forth, just above her ass as she walked. Her habit of responding to stupid comments with a sideways look, while lifting her chin and laughing, dryly at the perpetrator made her seem both imperious and alluring. As she walks by, men on the street usually glance in her direction, then look away, then stop and stare at her ass and her long, dramatic legs. They seem attracted in spite of themselves. Marsha was aware of the effect her legs, hair, and ass had on men, but she was self-conscious about her small tits and thought her face was not pretty enough. She was very jealous of my attention whenever we were around a pretty woman, particularly one with large breasts.

Marsha's hair was an erotic asset. She enjoyed having me play with it, especially when she felt it brushing against the bare skin of her shoulders or the small of her back, or dangling down between us while we made love with her on top. One night, when we were first dating, we ...

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