" Hmm, I never though of that. Sort of displacement therapy." And they both laughed.She saw him to the door. He hesitated, his hand upon the handle. "...ook," he said, "I expect there's some deep and binding laws against it, but could I phone you sometime? I mean I'd like to see you again, but not, er, professionally, if you know what I mean." She almost laughed at the look on his face. Like a guilty schoolboy looking for mercy but expecting none. "Mr Farmer!" she said, and thought she saw him. As I lay there I could feel his load slowly leaking; not a lot but I could feel it. My guts gurgled a little, a small amount of air puffed out and helped it leak; nothing loud and rude, just a little. He flopped down on his back beside me, touched me a little and tried to catch his breath. Nothing happened for maybe ten minutes then, he took my hand and placed it on his cock. He was still hard – rock hard! I felt around a little then went back to grasp his cock and stroke it a little; stroking. Then I could hold back no longer and started to devour one of them while my hand made the other feel less lonely and left out. I drew circles around it with my tongue and sucked it into my mouth. Her breasts were small enough that I could get almost all of them into my mouth and she moaned again, this time even more loudly with a hint of hysteria.That was when I felt her hands on my buttocks. My short, pleated cotton skirt was around my waist and she was almost desperately pulling me into her.. They were not more than 23 years. The driver was enjoying the scene. There were no one around and I knew what was about to happen with me. The guy on my right slid his hand from the back of my top and opened the hooks of my bra. My left breast fell on the hand of the guy and it was like he got a food to squeeze. The other guy lifted my tee shirt and took my bra out of it. Now it was like my boobs were freely dancing inside my tees and two hands were cupping them. I left a moan. I was breathing.
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