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I loved the shit out of it. I jumped as he touched my ass and he laughed and spread my ass cheeks apart. He licked my asshole while I licked Jean, and I felt her legs twitch.“You little cum-slut,” she whispered, and I giggled. “Make me cum again. Make me fuckin’ cum again.”That was last night. Now it was Monday morning, and I was having to work. I texted Jean our code for the upstairs bathroom and eleven o’clock. We’d have a little fun. I could make her cum in seconds, sitting on her lap in the last stall. We’d had years to perfect our technique. Amazingly, we’d never been caught. I giggled. What an office scandal that would be. It would almost be fun to be caught. I looked at the clock. Shit. This day was taking forever.My phone rang. “Mom!” It was Kirsten.“Yes, darling.”“Bryan said ... he said something about next weekend ... Woodloch?”“Yeah, baby. Jean and Peter and I are going and we wondered if you kids wanted to go.” I’d finally gotten a reply from Rodney, and I’d asked him if. Challenging for you girls," the Thai whoretrainer explained. Annie groaned, then bit her lip."Now, because your fans have decided to let you have this treat THEY will be the ones who decide how fast you can fuck yourselves." Tam addressed the audience. "When you want to let the girls start fucking, yell as loud as you can -- all together -- 'Fuck little lezzies!' When you stop saying it they have to stop too. Understand?" Fuckin' A!" yelled back an American. Assents rumbled up from the small tables and booths. I noticed the Thai bargirls giggling and nodding too. For once, they weren't the subject of the humiliation -- it was the stuck up white sluts on stage.Tam gestured for silence. Then, raising her riding crop, she waved it over the rowdy men and bargirls. They responded with gusto."FUCK LITTLE LEZZIES! FUCK LITTLE LEZZIES! FUCK LITTLE LEZZIES!"The pair was slow in complying and Tam brought the crop down on each of their asses, then the back of their thighs in quick succession..
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I didn't have to act,actually."What do you think of mine?" I said, flexing my own rather feeblebiceps."I think they look perfectly fine," he said. "Very pretty. On you. Imean, you wouldn't arms like Popeye, would you?"I certainly would not.Patrick asked me to sit down for a minute with them, and I did, makingsure I crossed my legs as I did so."You've got lovely skin," he said pointing at my arm. "Do you mind if Itouch it?" Be my guest," I said.He did so. Only he didn't touch my arm. He put his whole hand on mystockinged leg, and pushed it up my skirt. The other guys all whoopedand cheered, even more so when they saw I wasn't pushing his hand awayimmediately. Their mate had scored, so they thought. He fingered mystocking top. Before, when I was... you know... a man, I would neverhave had the nerve to do anything like that. I would have been tooembarrassed. And in front of people as well. I suppose that was onereason why I was now the one in the skirt."You're a bit cheeky," I said. I.

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