So there we were, both Marc and I pumping in and out of you, feeling each other’s rhythm, you in between us with your pants down and your vest still...on, hanging from your shoulders, showing your boobs. And again you felt like a goddess. I reached up and held your boobs firmly in both hands, squeezing them hard. Your breath quickened and you could feel yourself starting to climax. In short gasps you inhaled and repeatedly cried “Yes” every so softly. “Hurt me,” you exhaled. I pulled your nipples. Oh, and it didn't help that she was kind of exotic looking. She grew up in America but both her parents were straight out of Libya. It was terribly vogue for liberal white guys to prove how progressive and open they were by sucking on some brown titties or pumping and dumping an Arab girl. But, Sara was her friend. So she put up with the jibes, the lighthearted teasing and the ribbing when she arrived with her high school friend in tow. Even Brittany teased her, briefly. Brittany and Amanda had. It was the first time I seen several guys and gals with shaved cocks and pussy's. My cock got hard and the bulge was protruding out to the side of my jeans. I looked around there was another guy down the end of the rack looking at magazines. I didn't want him to see my cock. I had seen a video booth section it was dark inside.(Never been inside one figured it was a good place to hide until my dick went down or so I though!")I entered the hall inside it was dark stepped to the corner to let my. “You’re not mixing, Sam.” “You know me, Babs. This is the bit where we stand back and let him pretend he’s the man.” “You’re not drinking either.” “You keeping me under surveillance?” She smiled. “Can’t take my bloody eyes off you, to be frank. That dress looks like it might fall open and I don’t want to miss it when it does.” The dress was, it was true, held together at my hip by a leather strap and buckle. Otherwise, it wrapped across my chest and legs and I loved it. It was sexy (at least it.
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