She’d dropped off the drinks. She thought we were studying. She wouldn’t come back.I swallowed. “Could you...”“Yep,” my friend moaned. “...’d love to. God, I am so wet. Could you finger me while I did it?”“Yes!”Our hands dove for each other’s crotches. My futa-dick was so hard, her thighs so soft, her fingers so silky. I slid up her legs as she went up mine. We pushed each other’s skirts up. I exposed more and more of her golden-brown thighs, my futa-dick throbbing and aching. I shuddered as her. I'll just need a minute to clean off my face and..."With calm authority she told me, "No, you don't have a minute. Mygirlfriends will be here later on and, if you waste time now, you won'tbe ready for them. Will you?"I lowered my eyes, unable to meet her gaze. "No, Ma'am. I'm sorry."Now I was looking at her feet, which were shod in open-toed shoes withtwo inch block heels.As I got out my car keys and headed for the door, my mind was occupied bythe fact that I had on make-up. Not a lot but. More

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