My fingers were crossed as I hoped to capture and expose them. I do.Unfortunately, all good things come to an end.One day, I'm out at my favorite spot...and I set up my camera. I look at the hidden location and my brain tells me it would get noticed as the normal items surrounding the camera are lacking. I decide to go on.As I'm sitting, positioned where I can inconspicuously see whom enters, I see this cutie get up and enter the restroom. She is so fucking attractive. All I could think about was. You'll be the beautiful daughter of the slave owner who can't resist the nigger from the slave quarters. Do you want to leave?" Never in my life had I been so aroused and all we had done was kiss. "No, I don't want to leave." I was horny and the weed had sapped my normal inhibitions. If I had clearly pictured what would happen, I probably would have left anyway, but I just thought we would be petting and maybe give each other hand jobs.As soon as I assented, Allen's hand slid down to my. Older men with much younger women were perhaps far more commonplace in such a setting as were Emily and I, but they stood out, not only for the age difference but for their distinguishing features. The man was tall, broad-shouldered and quite muscular. He was gray-haired and clearly at least fifty years of age, but well-preserved. I also noticed he was well-hung.His youthful companion was long-limbed, had small but well-formed breasts, fiery red hair both on her head and on her well-trimmed. Her name was Felicia. The thickset girl called Sarah was a redhead too, though in her case it came from a bottle. She favoured Doc Marten style boots with black nylon on her legs and the same thigh-high skirts as Professor Milford. Her jumpers always gave the impression she couldn’t find one quite large enough to accommodate her large breasts. Then there was Sophie, whose hair colour also came from a bottle, but leaned more towards auburn. Her hair swept down over her shoulders, and she too was.