It was a furious, fast ride home, but she didn’t find any comfort there. She didn’t sleep that night, instead she rubbed herself way Mister Benson...did, trying her best to recapture the feeling of his breath, his grunts, his touch. She came again, over and over, until her body couldn’t orgasm any more.In a good, just world that would have been their first and only encounter. Actually, in a good world a beautiful talented woman like Scarlett Johansson would never have been raped by her drama. Apart from being tired, I was a bit worked up; I had met this young lady in a Vienna bar and had made quite an impression on me. Nothing happened: but at a certain moment late at night she confided in me that she was bisexual. That sparked off fantasies of her, my lovely wife, and me in the middle. An image I still crave…The KLM stewardess in her crisp blue two-piece started making conversation about the horrible Dutch weather and that she could luckily soon trade it in for Kuala Lumpur. My waist cinched by the black lace Waspie, with the six garter straps holding my slutty black seamed stockings in place. I slightly parted my legs, revealing my swollen labia as I smiled at Neil then deliberately licked a finger and traced the finger between my cleavage then gave each nipple a sensual stroke. Moving the finger over my Waspie it came to meet the soft smooth flesh of my mound. Sliding the talon like red nail across my shaved mound, I placed the finger into the groove of my shaved. Something like that would have been pretty cool. Some of the sportswriters already had been complaining that our World Series with the Mets had lacked drama. They'd said that the games (outside of the tension-filled 1-0 Mets victory in Game Two) had been pretty prosaic affairs.With all these home fans screaming for us -- many of them not even yet born when Baltimore had last won a World Series -- high drama would have been something to remember.Well, it started out dramatically enough. After.