We would go for a drink at week end and in late 70s split skirts were all the rage. She had one skirt down to her knees but split up to the top of her...thigh. I loved her wearing this I found it such a turn on especially when I caught other guys staring at her exposed thighs because of the split. She was insatiable once she had drink. We lived in rhyl north wales a popular seaside resort. During the summer on warm nights ahfter we had been to a night club we go for a walk on beach in the dark. Nor was it leather, covered with buckles, the metal jingling off of it ominously.No, it was simple. It was so simple that he allowed himself to be put it in, much like the first time he playfully agreed to let me tie his wrists behind his back. After all, he probably thought, I could easily get out of it.He couldn't.And he couldn't now, either. No matter how much he twisted his shoulders, no matter how deeply he drew in his breath and held it.But I certainly enjoyed watching him try. I enjoyed. She was surprised at the hardness of his shaft. Yet the softness of the tip, and the flesh down to the ridge where his shaft started. She continued to play with his cock with her lips and tongue. Her hands clasped his ass cheeks and she pulled him towards her. His shaft was so hard, the skin stretched.It was like an elastic that was just about to break. She continued to suck and lick him, playing her tongue up and down his shaft. Then kissing, then pursing her lips and playing up and down his. I tried my best to be polite and excused myself from the conversation before running out. As I was leaving the house, filled with loud music and conversation, I felt the anxiety and panic leave me in a giant rush when I crossed the threshold to the porch. I could finally breathe again. I took a moment to gather my thoughts and then started to walk home. I did not get more than a few steps when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Mitchel. I flipped around in a panic. ‘Whoa!’ Mitchel removed his.