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“…my asshole1” And to my surprise she began to repeat it over and over—“You’re fucking my asshole ! You’re fucking my asshole !”—in rhythm with my strokes, both of which gradually became faster and faster until she had to shorten her contribution to, “ Fuck my ass ! Fuck my ass ! Fuck my ass !” And when I reached around her hip and slipped my hand between her legs her voice lost all its language and became a kind of strangled howl as she went into orgasm—with me not far behind. So to speak. . I heard some voices near and pulled him away quickly, turning away from him to cover myself up.He was not going to let me get away that fast. Nobody was there; I gasped as he grabbed me and pushed me face against the rough wall. He pushed my light thong aside, giving himself better access to my cunt and biting my neck and my shoulder. I struggled to get away, scared that we could be got caught and scared of how badly I wanted him to continue. I needed to be fucked that afternoon; I could not. When the traffic eased out I once again glanced at her and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. She had folded her arms in front, just below her breasts.She was shivering slightly and when she tried to wrap her arms around herself more tightly her breasts were being pushed up and ballooning over the top of her low cut blouse. I could see her mountains and the deep valley between them going up and down as she was breathing. I said to her ” If you are feeling cold, sit closer to me and you. " He leaned forward. "Could we both get lucky?"I stroked his face gently and wondered if the rumor I had heard about Indian men was true. "Depends on how the word's defined, I guess, doesn't it." I kissed him softly. His tongue flicked against my lips and I parted them to let it in. I found myself breathless in short order.He pulled back just far enough to whisper, "The club is off-premise. Our house is available." I'll follow you."We dressed fast, said our goodbyes and left the restaurant. Pat.
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