Twenty seconds. Daisy almost cried out. She knew what he was doing, it had to be a guy. Process of elimination. He was going through every girl in the...cafe, watching as he fired off the vibe. A shadow appeared over her table. An employee, clearing a pastry dish. The vibe went still.“Can I get you anything else?” the girl asked.“No,” Daisy said, forcing out the word through compressed lips.The girl paused. “Are you sure? May I get you another coffee?”“No!” she managed, somehow. “I’m...” at that. It was Lena. I stretched my neck and picked up the phone for the second time. “With-” I started.“She’s out now. I b-believe she is unconscious.” She laughed. I could almost smell the alcohol through the phone. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Don’t do anything stupid now.” She was way too drunk to notice my underlying tone of fear.“Me? Doing anything stupid? You are stupid,” her loud laugh hurt my ears, “she has already called for a cap though. I guess it was a little too late,” Before she could. " Hell yes man, I have a whole two months before I go back home. No pussy here. This would totally make my day" He perked up in the chair ever so slightly. "Alright man, I guess this is it." I put down Dickens and got on my knees in front of Mark. I had yet to see his penis these past three months, but my guess was that it was probably the typical white suburban kid affair. He closed his eyes and rolled his head toward the ceiling as I slipped his shorts down. I could smell the sweat from his. Rose was one of those thirty-something females that pretended she was too high-class to use her mouth to satisfy a gentleman’s oral desires or to bent over for some sensuous sodomy that rang some happy male’s anal-sex loving chimes in ways that she appreciated from start to finish.Still, she was a quick study in “bread and potatoes” missionary humping after almost two decades of spirited humping and still maintained a tight entryway with a lot of emphasis on staying ready, willing and able to.
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Seconds later, they were once again dangling in the air, buffeted by the ever present wind. Her finger hovered over the winch switch, waiting for the
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