Olga wore a low cut evening gown and I could feel her bulging tits as we kissed and hugged. I sat next to her husband Maurice while my Andrew sat with...his wife. We chatted about past events as we waited for the hall lights to darkened and then suddenly the conductor was on the dais and the orchestra launched into one of my favorite pieces, Mozart's 40th. I was enraptured but try as I might to concentrate on the music I was distracted by the feel of a hand sliding up my skirt. I desperately. The bikini she was wearing was far too skimpy for modesty. Not that a bikini was meant to be modest but this one was more string than fabric and nothing was left to Tom’s stimulated imagination. He wondered what it would be like to take this lively little chick and bury his bone to the hilt inside her tight little hole. What kinds of sounds would she make? Would she just moan or would she trash talk while her cunt was ravished? What would it be like to have her mouth slide down on him and. More

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