Here I was 30 years old, 5'5, size 8, 34D boobs with shoulder length jet black hair on a bus surrounded by 8 black guys who had been drinking and were...all staring at me. I must admit I was starting to get turned on a bit but I was a married women and needed to get these thoughts out of my head. One of the guys Ray commented on how beautiful I was and made me go red, next thing he put his arm round me and stroked my hair,I could see him looking down my cleavage as he was talking. The other lads. ..”Repeating Puma’s time, she took a breath and looked at the ceiling for a count of ten, Helen listened to her opponent’s gleeful laugh before responding in a monotone. “You lost, bitch. One fifty-one. And nine seconds.”“How!?” Puma moaned.“Well done, Helen. You broke the code. You did well, girl.” Sydney seemed genuinely pleased with Helen’s performance.Helen was not quite sure what to make of the praise. I noticed a smug pride, along with a wariness directed at her tormentor.Puma paled, both. She ran a quick hand through her hair to correct a few errant strands and took a breath to collect herself. She was ready, excited and apprehensive, but ready.She opened the door to his room and found him sitting on the bed, jacked unbuttoned, supporting himself with his arms. He stood without a word and approached her. She froze as he neared, letting the feel of his proximity run through her. He reached past her and shut the door, then stepped behind her and began to slowly run his hands over. She chased the shot with a sip of water. I was so shocked I took a sip of schnapps and a gulp of water. "Don't you just hate Sunday mornings?" she asked me. "I can't wait to get home and relax!" She turned her back to me. We stood there. She waved backwards and swallowed more schnapps. She waved again, impatiently, and I finally figured it out. She wanted me to unzip her Sunday-go-to-meetin' dress. I had fumble-fingers but eventually I got it down. She stepped out of it and kicked it at her.