”“What…? What…? Please…” Emily said. She seemed suddenly paralyzed, standing there with the massive dildo in one hand while I undid her dr...ss all the way down. To my delight, Cynthia had grabbed the camera again and began snapping. “Please…” Emily tried again as I pulled the dress off her shoulders. It hung on her left arm, where she was still holding the dildo in the air.“Just a few pics for your fans,” Cynthia said. “If you want to post them on your profile page, I mean. Who wouldn’t be. You use your tongue and teeth on my nipples as your hand roams down my stomach. You spread my legs so I can feel the breeze on my already wet pussy. I moan as the wind rips around my body. Your fingers are so close to the core of me but just out of reach. Your mouth travels down my stomach and I gasp as you blow warm air on my pussy. I am afraid I can’t handle much more when your tongue presses up against my clit and your fingers find their way into my pussy. I scream out your name as my first. But I need more. I lower my face to your left breast and begin to gently lick your nipple with my tongue. I prod and push your nipple mercilessly, alternating between firm and light rapid strokes. You whisper, “Do you think we can find someplace to fuck?” I know just the place. The resting room is just down the hallway. You temporarily don your blouse and we quickly walk to the room. Once inside we settle onto the bed and turn out the light. There is one window and it provides a modest amount. The expressions of shock when some of these busybodies look back up at me then at Paul and back at me could literally have him cuming in his pants. His most uncomfortable moment was telling his parents who are rather stiff and conservative. Their unexpected and immediate acceptance of my maternity and later our children as their grandchildren did more for Pauls emotional attachment than anything else could have done. My parents blamed me of course, "How could you?" The scorn.